


Wiress and Beetee: Oneshots

by Clever_Girl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: A little bit of everything, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Some AU some Canon, Trigger Warning Discussion of Suicide, Trigger Warning miscarriage, Trigger Warning prostitution, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 38,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clever_Girl/pseuds/Clever_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshots and short pieces, mostly from my Tumblr. Things too short to be worth posting separately. Each chapter unconnected unless specified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a group of one shots, mostly from my Tumblr. They're unconnected to each other unless I specify otherwise. Assume that there's Hunger Games level violence and also swearing in each chapter, I will warn for smut on any chapter that contains it.  
> I like to play around with their ages, because that's a fun bit canon left out, but if I don't say in a story, I tend to assume that Wiress was about 34 and Beetee about 40 at the Quarter Quell.  
> Thanks for reading!

It took forever for Beetee to get away from his stylists. They were used to dressing teenagers, not a middle aged man who looked even nerdier now than when he first went into the arena around twenty five years ago. All of their suggestions looked ridiculous; he was going to keep some of his dignity, thank you very much. Now all he wanted was to find his partner and hold her for as much time as they had left. He opened the door to their suite. She was sitting there, still and silent, gazing off into nothingness. “Wiress? What’s wrong, love? Other than the obvious, I mean.” He knelt in front of her.

“I…” she took a deep breath.”I’m pregnant.”

“What?” Beetee couldn’t stop himself from shouting. It was just so unexpected, so improbable, such bad timing. He grabbed her shoulders. He wanted to be happy, he wanted to hug her. In another world, they would be doing just that. “Are you sure?”

Wiress gave him that look. The you’re-being-stupid look. “Of course I’m sure. They do a physical, don’t they? There was a test.”

Beetee kept his arms on her shoulders, as if by touching her, by holding on to her, everything could be alright. “What…what did they say?”

Wiress shrugged. “Other than a positive test, I don’t know.” She avoided his eyes.

“Why not?”

She still refused to meet his gaze. He recognized the stubborn set to her jaw. He wasn’t going to like this answer. “We switched results,” she said quietly. Beetee gently moved her head, made her look at him. “We switched results,” she repeated, louder this time. “The rebellion. We switched with Katniss.”

“Sparks, Wiress! What does that accomplish? What is happening!” He could barely register any of this information, it was all so surprising and strange and he didn’t know what was going on anymore. All he had ever done was fall in love, fell in love with his partner and she happened to be a revolutionary. He agreed with the cause, he was ready to fight and even die for it, but there were times when he wondered if he would have been involved otherwise. If it weren’t for the woman he loved.

Wiress explained in a calm, even voice. “Katniss is our symbol. She’s the mockingjay, right?” Beetee nodded. “We need people behind us, need them angry. And Beetee, they don’t care about me.” Beetee opened his mouth to protest, and she placed a quieting finger to his lips. “They care about her. They will be mad if their young lovers are sent in again, a pregnant newlywed. That’s the kind of anger that topples an empire.”

She was speaking in whole sentences. That’s what struck Beetee the most. If Wiress was speaking such complete thoughts, it was important, well thought out, serious. “It was Peeta’s idea. He didn’t know about the tests. That part was my idea.”

“Wire.” Beetee touched her face. He loved her so much. He already loved this baby, this baby they had wanted so much for so many years, if only they could have one in freedom. “Wire, we are going to get you out of that arena.”

“I hope so.”

“No. Not just hope.” He touched his forehead to hers. “We’re going to fight so you and our baby get out of there alive, hear me?”

“Not if it means losing Katniss and Peeta.”

“Our child, Wire! Please tell me you will fight to save our child!” He had to beg, he had to try to get her to believe how important this was.

“Not at the risk of the rebellion.” She pulled his hands away from her face, clasped them to her heart. “My top priority is to end the Capitol. To save lots of children. I won’t look for trouble, Bee, I promise. But if I die for this cause, I’ll be at peace.”

He understood. He really did. But he also hated it. “I love you, livewire. You and your stupid beliefs.” This earned him a laugh. He kissed her.

“We made a baby,” she whispered, pulling him down to the bed. “Us.” They didn’t have much more time together, they had to make it last. The clock was ticking. Tick tock.

 

Why wouldn’t they listen to her? They had to know. It was a clock. The arena was a clock. She tried to say it out loud, explain it calmly, but her mouth refused to make the words. Her brain kept showing the images of Beetee being stabbed at the cornucopia, over and over. Beetee covered in the blood rain. Beetee covered in blood. “Tick tock.”

“Yes, tick tock.” Katniss said, not understanding.

She touched her stomach. It was safe enough. The cameras might just think she was hungry. Might just think she was crazy. “Tick tock,” she whispered to the baby. It was moving around. Wiress didn’t know if babies were supposed to move around this much this early in the pregnancy. She didn’t know if she was just imagining it. “Tick tock.” She sang an old nursery rhyme to soothe the baby. She could only think of one about a clock. They needed to know it was a clock.

“Shut up, Nuts!” Johanna yelled.

“Tick tock.”

It should have been Beetee that understood her, Beetee knew her so well. But he was hurt, he had been stabbed. He had been bleeding. Katniss was the one to finally figure it out. “A clock! The arena is a clock!”

Wiress nodded frantically. _Finally!_ “Tick tock."

They moved, now there was a purpose. Beetee began to chart what terrors were in what hours, they knew quite a bit when they pooled their information. They could formulate a plan. Use the wire. It was still covered in blood. Wiress wrinkled her nose at the smell, it turned her stomach. Dried blood. The baby did not like that smell. Beetee asked her to clean off the wire. An easy chore, the kind of thing they did for each other all the time when inventing together. He asked her thoughtlessly, and off she went.

 

It was a stupid move. When he cries himself to sleep at night in District 13, he still can’t believe what a stupid move he made.


	2. Reckless Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drink until you make bad decisions, that's the District 3 way.

Ten years of partnership wasn’t enough to make Beetee know what was going through Wiress’ head. He was pretty good at finishing her sentences, but there were still times, like now, that completely flummoxed him. He got himself another drink. Maybe if he caught up a bit, it would start to make sense.

“For all tiiiiime!” Wiress and Haymitch still had another verse to go. Nope. He was going to need several more drinks.

He managed to get a little bit buzzed by the time Wiress and Haymitch finished singing, but he was sober enough to help her step off the table. “I didn’t even think I could sing!” Wiress laughed.

“You can’t,” Beetee teased, kindly. She swatted at his shoulder.

“I need…” Beetee didn’t bother finishing her sentence, just handed her another drink.

“Brilliant man.” She rested her head on the table, and just looked at him.

He chuckled. She was pretty drunk.

Wiress sighed. “You’re so good…”

“…at math?” Beetee laughed at his own joke. Perhaps the latest drink was a bit too much.

She rolled her eyes. “Not at jokes, clearly.” She extended her hand across the table, obviously for him to take. He did. Her skin was so cool and smooth. He knew this hand. Ten years of seeing it, of holding it. “Beetee. You’re good to me.”

“Well, we rely on each other, don’t we?”

“Yes…” She crinkled her nose. “It’s not fair that you’re so handsome!”

Beetee laughed, her jokes weren’t any better than his. Wiress sat back up, pouting. She went back to her drink.

“It’s not funny,” she muttered. “It’s not fair that you’re so handsome and I have to be around you all the time and I’m not even pretty.”

Well, that wasn’t true, Beetee wanted to say. She was very pretty, he just didn’t want to be the creepy old guy hitting on someone twelve years his junior. He was _forty_ for spark’s sake. Forty. Middle aged. Over the hill. He needed another drink. He brought one back for Wiress, too.

“A toast!” Haymitch yelled, from the center of the room. Everyone hollered and raised their bottles. Cecelia almost fell out of her chair before Woof caught her.

Beetee turned back to Wiress, surprised by her face looking so serious. “Not fair,” she whispered.

“To ten years of this, Wire. Ten years of us.” He clinked his bottle against hers. Normally they wouldn’t celebrate ten years of her at the Hunger Games, ten years of watching children kill, but right now, under all the booze, he was just celebrating ten years of sharing the District 3 suite with her, ten years of sitting next to her, ten years of having a friend to share the pain with.

“Ten years of this,” she repeated. “Ten years of loving you so much and not even telling you because it’s useless.” She downed her drink, opened the new one Beetee had brought her.

Beetee decided the booze must have really gone to his head. “Huh?”

Wiress really didn’t have anything to lose now. She was reckless, making bad decisions all around. The singing had been a pretty bad decision. Telling Beetee how she felt couldn’t really be _worse_ than that duet. “You! So handsome and smart and kind and funny. Just sitting there, all the time, being so great, just _making_ me fall in love with you. I didn’t stand a chance!” She yelled the last bit. Thankfully, the entire party was pretty darn loud already. “Your eyes. Your lips. I always end up staring at you.”

“You are _drunk_!” Beetee laughed. “We should probably get you upstairs.” Wiress nodded.  Beetee wasn’t really much more sober. They really were just stumbling out of the elevator to their suite. Thank goodness they had a bioscan lock. They would not have been able to handle a key.

“We need water!” Beetee grabbed bottles of water. “Water and medicine for by the beds. Sparks, we are _DRUNK_.”  He laughed. Forty. He was drunk and forty.

Wiress laughed at him fondly as he almost tripped over the couch. “I love you.” Beetee laughed louder. “Do you even realize I mean it?”

“Nope.” Beetee smiled. “Because you are drunk. We are drunk.” Wiress wasn’t going to get another chance. She cradled his face in her hands, and kissed him for all she was worth. He didn’t move for at least thirty seconds, but then he pressed closer to her, wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, this is good”, he murmured between kisses. “This is perfect.” They pulled apart slowly. Wiress had a dreamy look on her face.

“I hope you remember this in the morning,” she said. He pulled her back for another kiss.

Beetee kept his hands on her waist. “You aren’t joking?” he asked. She shook her head. “Not just drunk?” She shook her head. Her hands went to his shoulders, around his neck.

“I’ve loved you for ten years, Beetee.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, right below his ear. Something about that spot sent shivers through him.

“Wire…” He held her tight. “You’re so young and beautiful and brilliant.” She began to walk backwards, pulling him with her to her bedroom.

“I wouldn’t normally…” She hesitated in order to find the right words. “first time together while drunk. But I don’t think I could get up the nerves again. And I want you. So much. Always have.”

Beetee stroked her face. “Just the thought of you wanting me has sobered me up quite a bit.” She smiled. “I love you, Wiress. Even though I’m old.”

Wiress kissed his neck, “not old,” she breathed. She sucked at his skin, left little love marks. “Just sexy.”

They did remember everything in the morning. And still felt the same. But they had sex again anyway, just for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My husband is one of those drunks who just wants to talk about how drunk he is. For some reason, I think Beetee would be, too.


	3. Nuts and Volts

The first time Beetee heard the nickname “Nuts and Volts”, he told the speaker to shut up. They did, if only because Beetee shouted. They were used to a Beetee who is quiet and methodical and practical. That’s him usually, but all bets are off when you insult Wiress.

The idea that she is crazy is crazy itself. Most weeks out of the year, she’s perfectly normal, if a bit absentminded. But the other victors only see her during the two weeks out of the year guaranteed to make her remember her games. The time when she has to get close to children who are about to die, the time when there’s loud noises and flashing lights and blood and gore. Of course she retreats into herself. Of course she has trouble finishing a complete thought.

Wiress tells him to let it go, she doesn’t mind, and he eventually stops scolding people because it’s gotten popular and everyone says it and it isn’t really mean spirited but it still bothers him. He stops bringing it up for her. He just wishes they would stop underestimating her. No one in district three thinks she’s crazy. She makes brilliant machines and can hold a conversation and has friends, not to mention a husband. They don’t bring that up to the other victors, either.

When they’re mentoring and Beetee hears someone use the nickname, Wiress squeezes his hand under the table. He doesn’t say anything this time, but he does lean over and pull Wiress into a deep kiss. Turns out, that shuts them up, too.

 


	4. Sneaking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teenage Wiress and Beetee

Quarter to midnight. Time to leave. Wiress jiggled the window open, wincing at the sound. Why hadn’t she oiled it or something? She paused, waited to make sure her parents didn’t hear. She’d be grounded for months if they saw her sneaking out, for years if they found out she was sneaking out to meet a boy. An _older_ boy.

She didn’t sense any movement in the house, so she slipped out the window and onto the roof. Roof to gutter, gutter to tree, and then down the tree. It was easy. Somewhere back in time, someone might have planted this tree for this very purpose. Wiress kept to backyards and alleyways. No one really cared about curfew, but it would be just her luck that she would run into one eager peacekeeper. She was small and agile, fences didn’t pose much of a problem. Her heart leapt when she saw his figure in their meeting spot. Every single time, she expected him not to be there. She expected a note saying “Just kidding” or a group of people waiting to mock her. It was just unbelievable to her that this boy should like her back.

“Hi,” she said to the shadow. He stepped towards her, a grin on his face.

“Hi,” Beetee said. She fairly threw herself into his arms, and he pulled her even closer. They let their teenage hormones run rampant for a little bit. “I wish you would just tell your parents about us,” he said between kisses. “Then we could meet during the day. I could come to dinner. You know, _usual_ date things.”

“Soon. Maybe when I’m thirty.” He laughed softly against her cheek. “Not a joke, that’s when they told me I could date, I don’t think fifteen will cut it. And bringing home a seventeen year old? I think my Dad would have a heart attack.” Beetee kissed her nose.

“I don’t want to stop seeing you. But maybe you should trust them? I don’t want to keep sneaking around. I want to call you my girlfriend. Hold your hand and walk you home from the academy.” His hands were slightly up her shirt, just circled around her waist. The warmth was so inviting, she wanted so much more. She wanted to be his girlfriend. She wanted to casually drop, ‘my boyfriend, who is a genius,’ into conversation. He actually wanted to be with her. This amazing boy.

“Yes.” She kissed him. “Come by tomorrow after dinner. I’ll tell them they can meet you.” He smiled.

“So you aren’t ashamed of me, good.” She laughed. She was the opposite of ashamed. He rested his forehead against hers. “You can come meet my parents any time.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered. She checked her watch. They had maybe ten or fifteen more minutes before she had to get home. That was enough time for a good make out. In case her parents didn’t approve and padlocked all the windows. Just in case.

 


	5. It Took a Long Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the usual romance

Beetee didn’t fall in love with Wiress the moment she was reaped, or anything. He saw a young girl on the stage who refused to cry. He mentored both kids, along with Marks, the other District 3 victor. Two mentors equally prepping two tributes. Wiress wasn’t in love with Beetee, either. She thought he was cute, but it was more of an aside, a random thought before she turned away. She really had more important things to focus on at the moment. Beetee wasn’t interested in her because she was fourteen. He was twenty eight. He had his share of what he called ‘affairs’, sex with no relationships, he felt too broken to be in any sort of relationship, but he would never even consider a fourteen year old sexually. He’s not that type of person.

Even when she won, and he got to know her, got to be friends with her, it wasn’t love. Beetee worked on inventions with her. Wiress had a keen mind, one that made it easier for her to understand machines than people, and maybe she didn’t know how people felt all the time, she knew perfectly well when a part needed to be oiled or tightened.

Wiress didn’t love Beetee when they left to mentor together. He was always great with the tributes, making them feel comfortable, making them have some sort of hope and fight. She admired that about him, sure, but she didn’t love him for it.

They would talk and laugh together, spend days in a row in each other’s company without being tired of it, cry together when the tributes inevitably died. They were best friends, they were family, they were completely necessary to each other’s lives, but they weren’t in love.

It took more than a decade of this routine before Beetee realized at all. Not the usual love story, a man in his mid-forties, finally noticing how lovely his thirty year old partner was.  They had been living in a marriage for ages without knowing it, without meaning to. He couldn’t remember when eating meals together became the norm rather than the exception. He recognized that sleeping in the same bed in order to calm nightmares might seem odd, but he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up in a cold sweat and she wasn’t there, ready to hold him.

Wiress noticed some things, but couldn’t add them together to find out what they meant. She noticed when she stopped being interested in random sex, when she started turning away the few people she trusted enough to be that close to her, turning them away because she knew she needed something else, wanted something she couldn’t quite name. She didn’t realize what she was wanting was Beetee. She noticed when she ran up to her bedroom to pick up a sweater, and her bed was perfectly made, the blankets stale and needing airing, all because she hadn’t slept in her own bed in over a year. She was aware that she and Beetee always mentored together not just because they made a good team, but also because neither wanted to be separated for that long.

Beetee was the one capable of recognizing that they both felt this way, Beetee was the one who stopped in the middle of their dinner routine, turned to her, and said, “I hope you know that I love you” very casually. Wiress was the one capable of following through, Wiress was the one who took the chance, who leaned over and kissed him sweetly before taking the plates to the table. They didn’t need to talk about it, love had been sneaking up on them for so long. Admitting the love wasn’t the beginning of their relationship, although it did lead to significantly more touching than usual in their bed that night.


	6. Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU

“Hello, Wiress!” Beetee’s mother opens the door wide. “I was just about to run out to the grocery store, Beetee’s inside.” They exchange a quick hug, Wiress smiles and waves as she drives off. This is good. Wiress had been hoping to catch Beetee alone. It was taking every single ounce of courage she had to ask Beetee to the prom, and she didn’t want an audience. This would be embarrassing enough as it was.

“…and so I was hoping that you’d go to the prom with me.”

Wiress stops short of the doorway, Beetee’s voice is coming from his living room, and her heart sinks. He’s asking someone else to prom. She doesn’t hear the response, but Beetee’s deep voice always travels. Or maybe he’s on the phone. Shit, shit, shit. He’s asking someone else. She backs up further, hiding out of eyesight on the porch. She just needs to reevaluate, gather herself back together. The answer might be no. Or if it _was_ yes at least she was forewarned and could put on a happy face, smile and hug him and offer to share a limo with them and the underclassman she’d end up having to bribe to be her date. Yes. She can play it cool. She can compliment another girl on her dress, her hair. She can jokingly steal Beetee away for one dance and pretend that he’s _her_ date. She can go out with them to eat after and when they leave early, holding hands, she can pretend that she doesn’t know what they are going off to do.

Nope. She’s crying a little bit. She _can’t_ play it cool.

“Wire?” Beetee’s voice is coming closer. “Is that you? Why’s the door open?” He pokes his head out of the doorway to see her on the porch. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” He sounds so concerned, they _are_ best friends and he _does_ care about her, but at the moment all Wiress can think about is how he _doesn’t_ feel the way about her that she wants, doesn’t love her like she loves him. She shakes her head, but he still leads her into the house anyway, sits her on the couch. “Okay, I demand answers.” The tone is adorable coming from him. He’s not tough. He’s smart and sweet and nerdy and funny. He wears button down shirts even on the _weekends_. He desperately needs a haircut to keep his shaggy black hair out of his eyes. He has dark rimmed glasses and chuck taylors. He’s her _Beetee_.

Wiress wipes her face with her sleeve. “Prom,” is all she manages to say. He’s used to her not saying much, not finishing sentences. It’s just her ADD and the fact that her brain moves onto a new idea before she’s even finished talking.

Beetee takes her hand. “Someone turn you down?” Wiress is silent. “I’ll beat him up for you. Provided he’s smaller than me.” He gets Wiress to laugh. Beetee is probably the smallest senior in school. He squeezes her hand. “Is that it?” She shrugs.

“I’m just overwhelmed.” She tells him. He nods. Prom, graduation, college. They’re basically writing their entire lives at age eighteen. There’s a lot of stress.

“You got into the program you wanted. I’ll be there too. All your transcripts are in, so they can’t change their minds now. Nothing to worry about.” He tilts his head to see her face better. She’s stopped crying.

“Yeah.” Wiress wipes her face again. “I’m being silly. Emotional.” She squeezes his hand, then remembers his girl, whoever she is. She wiggles her hand out of his. “Prom is a big deal for girls, you know. Like a wedding.”

Beetee raises his eyebrows. “You’re never going to get me to believe that you are more interested in a dress than in one of your inventions.” That’s true. She even got a college scholarship because of them. Only models got money for wearing a dress. “I was just thinking about prom a few minutes ago,” he says slowly.

Oh god. Here it comes. He’s going to tell her he has a date, going to say the name of the girl she will have to try very hard not to hate. Going to shatter her dreams of ever getting him to notice her. He avoids her eyes. “Yeah?” she asks. Might as well get it over with.

He’s fidgeting, his hands clenching and unclenching on his jeans. One of his nervous habits. “Would you be my date?”

Wiress feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, out of her lungs. She’s not physically capable of responding right away, she’s just gasping. “You didn’t have anyone else to ask?” she says, tentatively. He pushes his glasses up. They’re too big, but his mom insisted that he’d grow into them. Wiress is pretty fond of this habit.

“I guess there are people I could ask.” He looks up at her with somewhat sad eyes. Wiress thinks that the answer she couldn’t hear must have been no. She’s perversely angry at this mystery girl for hurting him. “I just always thought prom was a little romantic, I guess. That I should take a date, not a friend.”

Wiress nods. “But she said no?”

Beetee frowns. “You’re saying no?”

“Not me,” she clarifies. “The first girl you asked. As a date.”

Beetee laughs weakly. “Wire, I’m asking _you_. As a date. Not as friends.”

Wiress is silent as she soaks up this information. Happiness is slowly beating down her wall of confusion, she’s not exactly sure what’s going on but she thinks he just admitted to romantic feelings. “You and I on a date.” He nods, hesitantly. He’s fidgeting again. “I’d like that very much.” He beams, clearly too surprised by her answer to hide his response.

“Really?” He clasps her hand again, this time she can feel how sweaty his nerves made it. Oddly, it doesn’t bother her. Hers aren’t the driest either.

“I wanted to ask you,” she admits. He leans his head towards her.

“Glad you didn’t. The man should ask, I’m very traditional,” he jokes. She laughs, he’s not traditional at all. His face is so close to hers. She can’t fight temptation any longer; she reaches out and kisses him. It’s a simple, easy kiss, her hands at the back of his head, closed mouth, him perched on the edge of the couch. A good first kiss for two best friends finding each other at last. They finally split apart, and Beetee can’t help but laugh at his good fortune. “You have no idea how I agonized over this,” he tells Wiress. “I practiced in front of the mirror for _hours_.” Wiress swats at his arm. She can’t believe she misunderstood. What if she had ruined it and he never got the chance to ask her? What if? She’s relieved that it worked out alright. There’s nothing to do for it but kiss him again.


	7. What If?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an experiment in the conditional

What if? What if neither of them had been reaped? What if Beetee and Wiress each turned nineteen able to breathe a sigh of relief, secure in the knowledge that whatever horrors life brings them, at least it won’t be the Hunger Games?

If that were the case, they might still find each other. Beetee, six years older, might have stayed single until twenty six out of devotion to his work. Wiress, a sweet twenty year old genius might be assigned to work under his tutelage, and her beauty and mind might make him take a second look. They might work late together, each cherishing the moments when their hands brush. She might slyly ask him about the women in his life. He might casually ask her to join him for coffee after work. He might walk her home once the coffee shop closes and they realize that they have spent hours just talking and laughing, and she might kiss him gently as a thank you, only for the kiss to turn passionate once they realize what has happened.

They might date for a while, or be engaged right away. They might sleep together constantly, or wait for the wedding night. The wedding might be huge, an event for all of District 3, or it might be private for just family.

They might have children. A sweet girl with her mother’s large eyes and brains that rival her parents’ combined. A boy with dark hair who is shy in public but a terror in the house. The children might escape the reaping too, leaving Wiress and Beetee to hold each other in bed the final reaping night, whispering that they feel truly lucky. These children might find their own loves, get married, have children of their own, ensuring that the genetic line lives on.

They might all participate in the rebellion, and survive, treated as heroes even though they only did what they believed to be right. They might actually meet the mockingjay and her friends after the Capitol falls, might choose to end up living in District 4, where the damage is less, and they can live by the sea. They might die in their sleep, both on the same night, each in their nineties. The entire neighborhood might think it is for the best, as neither one would have been able to live without the other. Their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren might dance at the funeral, because such long happy lives deserve to be celebrated, not mourned.

What if? This other life, the possibilities that could have existed if they were not reaped. It is beautiful. But it is only a what if. They _were_ reaped. Wiress was killed, her life cut short by a blade at the Quarter Quell. Her body was taken by the Capitol, Beetee did not get the closure of a funeral. They did not get this lovely possible life. They got the real one instead.


	8. I'm So Tired, My Mind is Set on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetee really needs someone to take care of him, doesn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and inspiration from the song "I'm so Tired" by The Beatles

Beetee was stuck. There was something wrong with the wiring, and if he tried to move it…no, that wouldn't work either. He switched one of the wires. No. He might need to add a component. He swept his hand through his hair. This was getting frustrating. There was a knock at the door, and it opened. "Hi," said Wiress, peering into his workspace.

Just the person he needed. She could always be counted on to provide him with inspiration, a new way of looking at things. "Hi. Do you know anything about panel feed wires?"

"Definitely less than you do." She frowned at his tired eyes. He went back to the mess on his worktable. He had fourteen ways that didn't work, at least he was narrowing down the possibilities. He pulled out another wire.

"When did you last…?" Wiress' concerned voice broke him out of his stupor.

"Sleep?" He rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, Wiress. I just wanted to get this part working, it's pretty complicated."

"Same clothes as yesterday." She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, I worked through the night, but it's fine, I'll go to bed early tonight, I just want to get this done." He tried to turn back to his work, but she held his shoulders.

"It's one am." She smiled at him. "Sleep time, let's go. Don't get mad, you do this for me."

Beetee stood up. She was right. All of his exhaustion hit him at once, he had been holding it at bay but now he wasn't even sure he could make it to his bedroom. "Thanks, Wire."

She nodded, looped her arm around his waist to help him into the kitchen. "Don't know how we'll handle the stairs."

"I can pass out on the couch, I do it all the time." He practically fell onto the cushions, and Wiress shook her head. She went upstairs and returned with pillows, a blanket, and pajama pants.

"Here." She faced the other direction, clearly so he could put on the pants.

It took him a while. He could barely keep his eyes open. "Done." She turned back around. The look on her face warmed his heart. She really cared. Of course she did, they were _partners_ , weren't they? In everything? Maybe not in _everything,_ maybe not the way he really wanted, but other than that, they were a pair. They knew each other. "Join me?" He reached out his arm. "Just until I fall asleep?"

"That will be about a minute." Wiress sat, cuddled into his outstretched arm. She fit so perfectly there. He only needed to turn his head slightly in order for his lips to touch her forehead. They were very fond of each other, didn't mind being close, but they never exchanged affectionate platonic kisses. This was unusual. Wiress was a bit surprised, but she didn't shriek and run away, so this wasn't bad. Maybe, someday, he'd have a chance.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Wiress. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Wiress laughed gently. "Starve, probably. Pass out from exhaustion."

"I never want to find out." He held her closer. "I love you, Wiress," he said as he drifted off.

"You do?" She looked concerned, and he wanted to comfort her, tell her how much he did, how much he'd been dying to tell her that if only he could get up the courage, but he was too sleepy, he couldn't make his mouth move.

He fell asleep and left a very confused Wiress somewhat trapped in his arms. "Love me?" she repeated, in a whisper. Was it true or just one of the odd things people said as they fell asleep? She combed his hair slightly with her finger tips. His look of fierce concentration melted away when he slept, leaving just the beautiful natural lines of his face. She thought he was devastatingly handsome. She changed position in his arms. It was late, she didn't want to disturb him, the couch was big enough for two. She lightly brushed her lips against his. Whether he meant it or not, she made a promise to herself. She would tell him tomorrow. She would tell him she loved him.


	9. Five Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times someone Beetee loved made him cry, and one time someone he hated made him love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is from a FFN forum, so my thanks go out to anyone who puts story prompts and ideas out there on the net for free use. It is MUCH appreciated!

Five Times Someone He Loved Made Him Cry, and One Time Someone He Hated Made Him Love

One

Beetee took a deep breath. He had to say it now. Now or never. "I love you, Wiress." She just stared at him, not moving. Her eyes were big and filling with tears. "Don't cry, livewire, love is a good thing. Even if you don't feel the same." He reached forward to take her hands, but she shook him off and flung herself into his arms instead.

"I love you. I _love_ you," she whispered, as though it was taking all of her strength to say it even that loud. They clung to each other. She tilted her head and found his lips. Their first kiss. He tasted something salty and realized that he was crying too.

Two

"Yes." She looked down at him, dark eyelashes fringing her lovely big eyes. He grinned in response, got off his knee. She laughed and cried at the same time, cupped his face and kissed him. He took her hand, held her steady so he could slip the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, the benefit of his precise engineer's eyes. She hadn't even glanced at the ring yet, she was just focused on his face, focused on the thing that was important to her. That made his heart swell even more. He knew she would have taken him without a ring, without any money or a house or anything. They had defeated tremendous odds, beaten two Hunger Games to get to this moment, and nothing would stop them from being together from now on. He wiped his face, tried not to let his tears show. They were happy tears, but they still had no place at such a joyous moment.

Three

Beetee returned late from his tutoring. He thought Wiress would be home, but the house was empty and quiet. Then he heard something, a sad sound from upstairs. He climbed the stairs, afraid of what he would find.

He opened the door cautiously. Wiress was there, on the bed, weeping. There was blood staining the sheets and he froze momentarily before running to her. "What's wrong, love, what happened?" he asked desperately. She couldn't even speak, she sobbed and held her stomach but there were no words to explain. Beetee didn't really need words, it was too damn obvious what had happened, but as the tears began to roll down his face, he found that he wanted to hear it all the same.

"I lost the baby, Beetee." She managed to breathe long enough to tell him, to actually say the words he suspected. "Gone," she wept, burrowing her face in his chest. He held her, not caring about the blood on the sheets or the tears on their faces. He just held her and she curled her fingers into claws grasping at his sleeves and they both gulped air and shared the pain. The baby they had wanted so much, loved so much, was gone.

Four

They shouldn't ever have had to be on this side of things again. Those were the rules of the Hunger Games, right? Beetee's head swam with possibilities. What if the wire didn't work? What if the rescue team didn't get there in time? What if someone killed the mockingjay before the plan even began? He rolled over in bed to find Wiress watching him. "Can't sleep?"

"Of course not." She had seemed worn out from their lovemaking earlier, but there were some anxieties that just couldn't be exercised away. Wiress slid her naked body closer to his, cuddled her face in the space above his shoulder. "I keep worrying that I'll lose you."

"No, no livewire. We'll be alright. We're going to look out for each other." He knew his promises didn't mean anything. There were no guarantees in the arena.

"I just can't bear to see you hurt." There are silent tears streaming down her face, he can feel them hit his chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd rather die."

He pulled her up to where he could see her. "Don't say that, love. We're going to do what we can for this mission, and we're going to protect each other as much as possible. It's all we can do. But I would give my life for yours. Wouldn't even hesitate." He kissed her, tried to memorize the wonderful feeling of her lips against his. Their tears mingled on their cheeks the same way their tongues mingled in their mouths.

Five

He didn't have a chance to grieve until after. He pushed all his thoughts aside and locked them in a little box marked " _Wiress_ " and didn't let them out until they were safe. He needed to survive, needed to save the mockingjay. He owed Wire that much. Once he was safe, however, the tears flowed. He screamed into his pillow, he shouted obscenities at any higher power who would allow this to happen. He couldn't eat and couldn't sleep and couldn't see any purpose in a life without his livewire.

Eventually, they forced him out of his room. He talked to people. He worked. It seemed as though he was alright, but in reality, he was going through the motions. He was empty inside.

One Time Someone He Hated Made Him Love

The survivors still got together every now and then, as often as that many schedules could be arranged. At these times, her name hummed through his blood with every beat of his heart. Wiress. That's why he held out his arms to accept the baby when Johanna needed the restroom. Wiress _loved_ children. She adored them. Even after the loss of her only pregnancy, she still was happy whenever a youngster was around. She would have grinned and hugged this child without hesitation, even if the baby's mother was a huge bitch. Beetee didn't really know what to do with babies, but he sort of rocked her in his arms and admired her auburn curls. The infant reached for him, grasped his pinkie finger with its entire tiny hand. When Johanna returned, he shook his head at her offered arms and kept holding the baby. He had almost forgotten how to love, but this little thing, this sweet little girl was breaking down his walls.


	10. One Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the Quarter Quell, Beetee has some unfinished business.

This could be his last chance. Their last night together. He truly wanted to believe that everything would work out alright in the arena, would go perfectly as planned, but in a practical sense, that was unlikely. There were bound to be some injuries. And some losses.

Beetee didn't want anything to be left unsaid. He and Wiress had a great working relationship, they got along, they were still very close, but it was all so different from the grand romance they had once had. At one point, they were head over heels in love. They had spent every day together and made love every night. Then, abruptly, he had frightened her away. He had wanted more than she could give, more than the Capitol would let her give, perhaps. She pushed him away and her mind grew more vague. As much as he loved her, as much as he wanted to help her, he couldn't force her to accept him in her life.

He _could_ force her to listen now. If he died in the Quarter Quell arena, it would be with a clear heart. He wouldn't die without telling her one last time how much he loved her. Well, he would tell her once he gathered his courage, that is. He stood in front of her door for a solid ten minutes without being able to raise his hand and knock. It was a bit pathetic, he admitted. Mooning about in front of his ex-lover's door. He lifted his hand, let it just hover above the door. It opened suddenly, making him take a step back in surprise. Wiress stood in the doorway, staring at him with large eyes. "Oh!" escaped her lips.

Oops. Awkward. He fumbled to explain himself, to make this seem less creepy. "I was about to knock," he managed.

"I see that…" she drifted off. She took in his pajama pants, rustled hair, confused expression. "You'd better come in." He entered her room, amazed at how much more at home he felt in hers than in his identical looking one. It just _smelled_ like her. It smelled like _home._ She sat on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to do the same. He rejoiced at the closeness, but it felt so awkward. He felt much more like a teenager than a middle aged man.

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "You either?" She shook her head. "I'm scared," he admitted. She took his hand.

"Me too."

He looked down at their fingers intertwined. This was how they belonged. There was no point in backing down now, after the arena they would either be dead or safe; there was no middle ground. They wouldn't have to keep a relationship secret out of fear of the Capitol. They could be together, provided she still felt the same. "Wire, you're my best friend. I wouldn't have stayed sane all these years without you." She smiled gently.

"Same." This made him smile, too. They sat in silence for a few moments, just holding hands and memorizing the moment. A happy, sweet moment for just in case.

He lifted her hand and gently kissed her wrist, right over the pulse. "I've never stopped loving you, Wiress." He met her eyes so she could see the sincerity there. "I don't think I ever could stop."

Wiress looked at him. Her fingers trailed over his skin, making him feel hot and needy. "I believe you," she told him quietly. "Love recognizes love." She leaned into him and brushed her lips against his cheek. Beetee's heart soared. She still loved him. That was all he needed to hear.

"If we make it…" she began to say. Beetee shook his head.

"Don't talk like that."

She gave him a wry look. " _When_ we escape." He smiled.

"Better."

"After the arena, when we are safe. I will still love you. I will marry you." Wiress smiled up at him. It's what he had always wanted for them. It's what drove them apart in the first place. Beetee cupped her face and kissed her sweetly.

"My love," he murmured as his lips touched hers over and over. "Livewire."

She moved her head forward, capturing his mouth for a deeper kiss. Their passions rose in unison, Wiress only voicing what they both wanted. "Make love to me." Beetee wrapped his arms around her and held her body close to his. They had one last night together. That was all they were guaranteed. They would make the most of it.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I leave it up to the reader if you want to decide this is AU and she lives after all :-) Thanks for reading, and I love your comments, feel free to let me know what sort of things you'd like to see more of either in a comment or a message. I'm only now writing again after a long hiatus, so I can really use the exercise.


	11. In Which Sexy Time Becomes a Giggle War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humor is quite an aphrodisiac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I love about this pairing is that we only really know them in canon in a very stressful situation, and we don't necessarily know their true personalities. It gives me a lot of creative wiggle room. I like seeing Beetee as the traditional geeky smartass.

 

* * *

"Ten minute break, everyone." Only ten minutes? Beetee frowned. That was not enough time to deal with the fact that he and Wiress had been teasing each other all afternoon. The first half hour of playing footsie with her made him want a break so they could run up to their rooms. They were _supposed_ to be at this conference to learn as well as present their new invention but honestly, these supposed professionals were pretty far below Beetee's exacting standards. Darn, if only they weren't so famous and easily recognizable. If they skipped out on the second half of this lecture, they'd be missed, and that would cause a fuss and a scandal and the presenter would think they were rude. Beetee hated being famous. Wiress took his hand and led him in the opposite direction of most people. She checked if anyone was looking, and opened a door.

"In here," she slipped inside, beckoning him to follow.

Beetee raised his eyebrows. Well, no one was looking. "Ok."

"We have to be quick," Wiress murmured, unbuttoning his shirt. Beetee grabbed her hands. This was…well, not very private.

"Here?" he asked. She gave him her little head tilt of confusion.

"Not if you don't want to." Her shoulders drooped. "We only have ten minutes, we couldn't get to our rooms and back in that time…" much less have sex, is how she would have finished that sentence.

"This is a closet." Beetee lowered his face to hers. He was having trouble seeing with only the light filtering in through the crack under the door. "You want to have sex in a closet, this close to the other conference attendees?"

"They're down the hall," she reasoned. Wiress pulled slightly away from him, became a little more aloof. "Don't you think it's kind of…sexy?" She smiled at him with mischief in her eyes. She was dangerous when she was like this, that look had gotten Beetee to do some very nice _bad_ things. He tried to be casual.

"I just think it's a little bit of a bad idea, honey." He held his arms out for her, but she just raised her eyebrows.

"Okay." She opened the door and left, closing it behind her in his face.

* * *

Wiress actually sat in a different seat for the second half. That minx. Beetee spent most of the time trying to catch her looking at him, he could feel her gaze from across the room. He learned all of her flirting techniques years ago. She was out of her seat and gone the second they were dismissed, so Beetee strolled to their rooms slowly. Let her have her little victory. In the bedroom, it looked as though no one was there except a suspicious lump covered by blankets. He kicked off his shoes and sat down next to it. It gave a loud fake snore. Beetee pulled down the blankets just enough to see the top of Wiress' head, hair sticking up from static electricity. He tried very hard not to laugh.

"Wire," he whispered into her hair, "you are very bad at faking sleep." She made a rude sound with her mouth. "You are also a child," he teased. He actually liked her whimsy. "Will you look at me please? Or are you going to continue to sulk because I wouldn't bang you in a closet?"

He got the giggle he was going for by using the word 'bang'. "I want to keep sulking," she mumbled from under the blankets.

"I guess I'm just going to have to come to you, then." He pulled the covers over his head to join her. She unbent enough to turn slightly, meet his eyes. "Hello there."

"Hi." She was trying very hard to stay cranky. It was difficult in the face of such adorable behavior from her intelligent and practical nerd of a boyfriend. "I'm annoyed with you." She gave him an exaggerated pout.

"Because of the closet," he clarified.

"Because of the closet." She had to avoid his eyes, she was perilously close to getting the giggles. "because you wouldn't ' _bang_ ' me in the closet and it would have been _awesome_."

"I'm sure it would have, except that I would have been too nervous of being found to sustain an erection." He really wanted her to get the giggles. He pulled himself closer to her, ran his hands over her soft warm belly. The problem would be getting her overwhelmed with laughter before he was overwhelmed with lust.

"I'm beginning to lose faith in my feminine wiles, Beetee." She tried the pout again. "Or maybe we're just stale. Been together too long so we aren't as interested in each other. Five years ago you would have had me up against that wall in no time." Beetee was pretty sure that actually _did_ happen, in the victor area of the hall of justice. In fact, the memory of it was making him think he might lose this battle.

"I'll have to find a new, younger woman to bang in closets from now on," he agreed, running his lips along the sensitive skin behind her ear. She smiled at the joke and the contact. "I'm not entirely sure that new girl would let me bang her in a blanket tent, though."

"This isn't a real blanket tent. We're just under the blanket." Beetee had to hold back laughter. She was arguing about _semantics_ at this moment? Wiress' eyes lit up. "Can we make a blanket tent?" What on earth had he started here?

He sat up, pulling the covers off him. "I don't see why not. Give this room a little more ambiance." They quickly pulled over chairs to drape the largest blanket over, and Wiress pulled the other blankets and all the pillows to make a little nest underneath.

"I love it," she whispered. Beetee took her hand.

"It's surprisingly nice and cozy. I can't lie, this is pretty romantic." He brushed her hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck. She could never resist that. "Is my girlfriend going to let me bang her in this blanket tent?" He grinned at her, the sexy crooked grin that always made her want to take off some clothes. Wiress leaned up on her knees, crawled over to him.

"I think she might." She pushed him down onto the pillows. "You're right; this is _much_ more comfortable than a closet."


	12. Persephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light and the dark

Wiress is in hell. More than _in_ hell, she's the _queen_ of this hell. She can't escape her dark thoughts most days, trapped in an endless loop of killing people, being killed. She desperately needs one single ray of light to keep her alive, one good thing in her entire life to make the rest worth living.

Beetee is the sunshine. The breath of fresh air after being held under water. She doesn't want to corrupt him, she just wants his light when she is in her hell. She wants to steal him away and keep him with her, she feels selfish but it's the only thing that keeps her sane.

He had always been kind to her, always made her laugh, made her feel important. So she seduced him, that's the way she would put it, _seduced_ him into joining her, into being _her_ sunshine instead of just _the_ sunshine. She tries to explain this to Beetee when she tells him to get away while he still can, to leave her in hell and stay in the open air where he belongs.

Beetee just laughs.

He laughs and sits on the bed, tells her the old myth about Hades and Persephone, a story he read in a contraband book. Persephone was beautiful and lighthearted and full of sunshine; Hades was the ruler of the dark and gloomy underworld. He told Wiress of how Hades tricked Persephone away and married her, kept her in hell for himself, so he could have at least one beautiful, happy thing. Beetee describes the battles that ensue, and the end bargain, that Persephone was tricked into staying four months of the year in hell, as she ate four pomegranate seeds.

Wiress listens to the story with rapt attention, finding pleasure in both the tale and Beetee's strong voice. When he finishes, he pulls Wiress into his arms, tells her his own theory. He says that he never believed that Persephone had been stolen away, that she had been tricked. He only sees a lovely plan for an otherwise unorthodox marriage. He sees Persephone's light as desiring the dark, her sunshine craving the sweet blankness.

He kisses Wiress lightly. Darkness and light each crave its opposite, much like men and women, he tells her, holding her body close to his. By all accounts, Persephone was ideally suited to rule with her husband in hell. Beetee gently leans Wiress down onto the bed, gazes down at her with affection. Between kisses, he reminds her that Hades was a powerful god, very attractive to a young woman who was merely a lesser goddess. She removes her clothing while listening to his reasoning that a beam of light is more impressive in pure blackness than in the bright of day. She helps him remove his while he explains how wild and exciting the darkness can be. He touches her gently as he speaks of yin and yang, complementary opposites, two halves of one whole. She guides him inside her while saying she understands, the dark needs the light, the light needs the dark.

Conversation halts all together while they move, only moans and small cries break the silence as they bring each other to bliss. She cries his name, as sharp on her tongue as the intense feeling that causes the sound. His moan is lower, muffled by her skin as he presses his face into her neck. They lay together afterward, Beetee and Wiress, contemplating their relationship. Beetee says he thinks Persephone used the circumstances to get what they both wanted. That _she_ was the instigator, the seductress. Beetee holds Wiress tightly against his body, tells her that a true partner will find any way to stay, even through trickery, seduction. He whispers that he would eat any number of pomegranate seeds for her, would attempt any number of trials. He kisses her so that she knows, if he joins her in hell, it is of his own choosing.


	13. Purchased Goods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a victor isn't always easy. Not when you can be purchased.

Winter solstice. The Capitol didn't have any actual celebrations like some of the Districts had, but they had begun adopting some of the quainter customs. There were always lots of victors sent in for this night. Anyone with any money could purchase exciting company to keep their bed warm on the longest night of the year. Finnick looked around the gathered group to see who was lucky this year, and who was sitting uncomfortably in this room. Most people were alone, trying to mentally prepare themselves for the pain to come. There were a couple notable groups of two or three, friends comforting each other or talking to keep their minds away.

"What's wrong with Nuts?" Finnick asked. Wiress had her face buried in Beetee's chest, sobbing. Beetee was stroking her back, trying to calm her down. Finnick was just, well, pissed. What right did she have to be more upset than the rest of them? She wasn't that popular, left alone for years at a time occasionally. Definitely not the once a month that Finnick had to head up to the Capitol.

Beetee gave him a warning look over her head. He was pretty protective, but Finnick couldn't help pushing the nerd's buttons. "She just got her assignment; it's the first time she's been bought as part of a pair."

Finnick shrugged. He got that all the time. It wasn't the worst of the things he had to do. Hell, it wasn't even in the top ten. He'd been paired with lots of random people, victors and otherwise. It wasn't something he enjoyed, but there was literally _no_ aspect of this that he enjoyed. "So what's the big deal, is she being paired with someone she doesn't like?"

"She's being paired with me." Beetee's voice was neutral.

"A real big District 3 fan then, huh?" Finnick rolled his eyes. Some people had such odd taste. "So she's crying about the idea of seeing you naked, then? Don't blame her for that."

Beetee gave him a look, one that showed he saw Finnick as a very young, very stupid, child. "She never seems to complain at home." A muffled laugh came from Wiress' general direction.

Finnick snickered. Maybe Beetee _was_ alright. If he had a sense of humor, at least there was hope. And he hadn't known they were a couple. He didn't know them well, thought she might just be unhinged and he took care of her.

"I think what is bothering her is that I'll have to see her at this assignation." Beetee stroked her hair. "And that I might think of her differently afterwards." Wiress nodded, still pressed into Beetee's sweater. "Which is a very strange thing to be worried about when she knows that nothing could ever make me stop loving her," Beetee said pointedly, directing his words to her.

Finnick kind of saw her point. He had never paired with Annie. He was a different person during his 'dates'; he wasn't a person he liked. Having the woman he loved see him like that, see him 'at work' as it were, well, he wouldn't like that at all. And he _would_ worry that it would somehow taint _them_ , as though sex afterwards would always remind them of the 'date'.

Wiress lifted her head, hair mussed around her face and eyes red from crying. "I just don't…"

"Want me to see you like that?" Beetee finished. They were always like that. Beetee having to finish her sentences. Wiress nodded. It was crazy, but Beetee did always seem to know what she was trying to say. Finnick thought it was kind of sweet. Honestly, he'd do anything for Annie, and now that he knew Beetee was sort of in the same boat, well, he didn't feel quite as alone. So he tried to help comfort Wiress, just like he would comfort Annie if he had to.

"We all know the drill, Wiress. We all know the mask you have to put on to deal with this shit. No one would ever think that mask was a real person. Especially not the guy who loves you." Wiress gave him a weak smile.

"It's…it's just such a mockery of our love." She frowned. "The two of us…with someone else. Worse than having someone else to pair with." He personally agreed, but that wouldn't make her stop crying, would it?

"Nah, nah this is better because you'll have each other. Easier for you to escape in your head while it's happening. Easier to comfort each other after. It's like…" he tried desperately to think of something helpful. "Like you're on the same team."

Wiress looked unimpressed. Beetee kept his arm tight around her, but she wasn't crying anymore, at least. "I think you're very sweet to care," she told him. "Not just mock me." She smiled at him kindly, and Finnick decided he liked them. He liked that they were nice and he liked that they were reasonable. He liked that Wiress reminded him of Annie and he liked the way Beetee nuzzled his face in her hair as she talked. Some of the victors like Johanna and Chaff could be fun, but you had to be on guard with them. You got the feeling they were looking for your weak spot. These two were just…nice.

Finnick wished Beetee and Wiress luck and went on with his preparations. "How are you feeling, Wire?" Beetee asked.

"A little better." Wiress pulled his arms around her. "I'd do anything to keep you safe, so I guess this is part of it." Beetee pulled her tight to him, rested his head on top of hers. He didn't want her to see the sadness on his face.

"We'll be okay, love. We'll get through it and be strong together." He hated that he couldn't protect her from this, hated that she had to disrobe for another person, hated that she had to share her body with someone not of her choosing. He hated it more for her than he did for himself. "Nothing could ever change how I feel about you. You're the love of my life. I would die for you, love."

"I couldn't do it without you," she whispered. She looked up at him. "You're my strength." She pulled him to her for a kiss. "You'll be my focus. I'll get through tonight because of you. I survive for you." They kissed again, blocking out all thoughts and future plans for the feeling of soft lips pressed together.


	14. The Time Lady's Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, in the annual tradition, I bring you a Doctor Who Christmas Special.

Beetee was pulled out of his ‘work trance’ by odd sounds. A whirring and something that sounded like the flapping of large wings. He peered around his workshop looking for the source, it sounded like it was near his bookshelves…he just barely ducked in time to miss the first of the creatures coming at him. It was followed by several friends, all large and scaly, flying towards him baring hideous teeth.

“What is happening here?” Beetee hit one of the creatures with his hammer, but more kept coming and coming. He pushed his body under his desk, ready to defend himself against any that got too close. There was another loud noise, a kind of intense buzzing, and he gritted his teeth against the sound. It wasn’t _natural_. Then, silence. Beetee held his breath. Were they gone? He was about to peek out to check, when he heard footsteps. He had no idea if they were friend or foe, so he stayed hidden. The steps got closer, almost right in front of the desk.

“Are you here? Person who was fighting the Vortisuars? I took care of them, it’s safe.” It was a female voice, sounded human enough, but Beetee stayed where he was. He had no idea what was going on. He tried to ignore reason for a few more minutes. The steps stopped right in front of the desk, impractical little red heeled boots. “Human?” Beetee tried not to make any noise, tried to make his heart beat even quieter. It didn’t seem to work, she knelt down. He saw a pale face, large eyes, dark curls pushed behind her ears. “Are you hurt?” He hoped she was trustworthy, or he was about to be very dead.

“I’m okay,” he managed to say. “Just confused. Terrified, really.” She nodded sympathetically.

“They’re nasties, those ones. I’m afraid it was my fault that they came here at all, so I’m glad you’re not hurt. Don’t want that on my conscience.” She reached out for him to haul him out from the desk. He took her hand hesitantly. He was surprised, when standing, that she was rather small. She had been pulling him as though she were strong. “I’m Wiress.”

“Beetee.” He shook her hand. “What is going on here…what were those _things_ and how did you get in my house?” She laughed.

“Right to the point, are you?” She waved vaguely to the corner, “Got in with that thing, those were Vortisuars, and what happened is that they found me in the space-time vortex, and followed me, forcing me to switch dimensions. Do you know what dimension this is?” She shook her head, laughing, “No, no one ever knows the _names_ of dimensions so it’s a silly question, really.”

Beetee stared. She was crazy. Nuts. That was the only solution. “You…are from another dimension?” She nodded absent mindedly, examining some of his inventions lining the walls of the workshop.

“These are yours?”

“Yes.” Beetee followed her as she went from machine to machine.

“These are good. _Really_ good. Technology beyond your time.” She looked him in the face. “You’re extraordinarily gifted.” Beetee tried not to blush. His inventions were his weakness, the one thing he really cared about.

“Yeah…well…inventing is my talent, you know. So I keep up.” He looked at the ground.

“Your talent?”

“My victor talent,” he clarified. “Since they don’t want me to work.” Wiress narrowed her eyes in confusion. “I’m a victor? Of the Hunger Games?” How did she not know this? Who _was_ this woman?

“Hunger Games…” She tapped her fingernails, painted a vivid red, on the desk. “I think this world must have split and had a nuclear war when mine didn’t. Formed Panem? That’s this one?” Beetee nodded. He wished he had a better weapon nearby, if this crazy woman tried to attack him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to defend himself with a hammer. “Got it. I think I can find my way back.” She grinned at him. His anxiety receded a bit at the smile, it was genuine and beautiful. “Have you ever considered traveling?”

“What?” Beetee’s head was hurting. He had no idea what was happening, he had been attacked by those _creatures,_ and now this insane woman was making small talk?

“You’re brilliant. And being wasted here. You could come with me, see the universe. Multiple universes, in fact, since I’d go back to my dimension.” Beetee backed up slowly.

“I’m very sorry, Wiress, was it? But, um, I think you have a mental health issue, and I don’t know how you got in here but I am going to call a peacekeeper because you need some help…” He was almost to the telephone when he felt _stuck_ in the air. The small woman was pointing something at him, not a gun, but some sort of handle that was _glowing_.

“It’s sonic,” she explained apologetically. “Don’t call anyone, I don’t want you to get in trouble. They’ll think _you’re_ crazy, because I will be gone by then. Perhaps you’d better see my spaceship?” She smiled again, softer this time, but just as beautiful.

“Umm, sure.” He might as well indulge her. She went to the back of his workshop, to the fourth bookshelf along the wall. No, that wasn’t right. He only had three. Three bookshelves on that wall. She reached her hand into the air and _opened it_. This…this was impossible. The air opened, right where that bookshelf _wasn’t_ , and there was…machinery…in there! Lots of room, a console, everything exciting and new. He inched forward, curiosity beating out fear in his brain. “This…this” … _is impossible_ , he wanted to say, but clearly it was possible. Beetee stood right on the threshold of this new space, unwilling to go in.

“It’s safe,” Wiress told him, right behind his shoulder. “I won’t take off or anything until you’re sure.” She stepped around him to prove that it was solid and safe. "This is my TARDIS.” She seemed perfectly at home in this place of wires and machinery, touching the walls with a fond hand. For the first time, Beetee was beginning to believe that _some_ of these incredible things he was seeing were real. “If you’d like to come along, see more, you can stay as long as you’d like.” The offer was actually rather tempting. He barely had a home in District 3, nothing meant anything without family or love. “I have to admit, I have a weakness for handsome human men, particularly when they’re brilliant.” She shot him a guilty smile. His brain only picked up the word ‘human’. She’d called him that before.

“Wait, you’re not human?”

“Nope. I’m a Time Lady. From Gallifrey. We’re very similar, though, biologically. Except the hearts.” Beetee leaned against the wall in order to keep from falling over completely. This was…overwhelming.

“Weakness for human men.” He stood up abruptly. “Do you…eat humans?” His eyes darted to the door. He might be fast enough to make it. Wiress just laughed.

“I’m _attracted_ to them, silly. To you.” She looked around conspiratorially. “It does not make me popular among my people, I’ll tell you that. They prefer asexual reproduction, but _really_ , where’s the fun in that?” His head spun. He just…he had nothing here. Nothing but pain and misery and torture. He might as well do the first impulsive thing of his life.

“I’m in.” Beetee walked to the strange woman he’d just met. The woman offering to show him universes. “I’ll come with you.” She threw her arms around him.

“Wonderful! Need anything?” Beetee shook his head in doubt. “We can get clothes anywhere, that sort of thing. You’ll be fine!” He was already beginning to like her spirit, her fire. She was more than energetic, she was enthusiastic. It was rather unusual in Panem. Wiress pressed all sorts of buttons on the console; Beetee couldn’t follow the movements. Afterwards, she turned to him, braced against the beam, practically glowing with excitement. “I’ve never had a traveling companion before. I have a friend who always needs at least one. He gets lonely.” There was a loud whirring sound and the floor began to shake. “I know exactly what he would say in this situation. Allons-y!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was for an "Other Worlds" prompt, trying to put your OTP in the world of another fandom. I played around with it a bit, but Wiress makes me think of Romana 2 a lot, so I made her a Time Lady. Don't ask me where this falls on the Doctor Who timeline, since it's just a bit of silliness, but I do think there's a chance Romana, at least, could be alive, since the last time we see her on the TV show is when she slips into a parallel dimension.


	15. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst nights of the Hunger Games can be made better

The worst nights of the Hunger Games were the ones where they had to stay at the Justice Center after their tributes were killed. There was nothing more to do, but he had to keep watching. Beetee couldn't stand the pain combined with the inactivity. He had nightmares. Wiress, the one tribute he had actually been able to bring home, dying. Dying the same way the ten tributes since her died. She was stabbed, her neck was broken, she was torn apart by mutts, and starved until she was too weak to hide from other tributes. Vision after vision assaulted him in this dream, her twisted broken body mocking him. He finally pulled himself out of the nightmare, back into the reality that wasn't much better. All these children kept dying. But not Wiress, he reminded himself. Wiress, at least, was alive, he had saved her, gotten her out of the arena, she was young and pretty and vibrant and _so alive_ right in the room next to his. Beetee slipped out of bed. He just had to peek in and see her, reassure himself that she was there, that she was breathing.

Beetee winced at the cold floor as he went down the hallway. He opened Wiress' door as quietly as he could. He just needed to see her face for a moment, to be comforted. She was in bed, alive, breathing. He couldn't stop a smile from creeping onto his face. She was also awake and looking at him with a confused expression. "Nightmare?" she asked. Beetee nodded, unable to form words in his relief. She wasn't broken, not torn apart or bleeding. She was pale and pretty and twenty one and her heart was beating. Her whole life ahead of her. He had gotten her out of the arena. He saved one. Wiress searched his face for what he wasn't saying, and pulled back her covers invitingly. "Get in." Her tone said that she wouldn't listen to any arguments, but Beetee froze. This was highly unorthodox. Wiress raised her eyebrows at his hesitation, and sighed with frustration as she got out of bed.

"Beetee." She approached him slowly, which Beetee appreciated. He was jumpy from the nightmare. "You had a bad dream? Enough that you left your bed. Came here…" She drifted off, looking at his hands clenched into worried fists. "Get into bed, you big dummy." She covered those fists with her small hands and gently led him to the bed. She climbed back under the covers, and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Come on." It was very, very inviting. "Aren't you an adult? Aren't you thirty? You should know better than to stay out there in the cold in bare feet." She pulled him down toward her, and he climbed into bed to avoid actually landing on top of her. Not that he would have necessarily minded that contact. Wiress grinned at her victory, pulled the covers over them both. "Let me comfort you," she whispered, snuggling close.

Beetee wrapped an arm around her awkwardly. He wasn't sure what to do, but having her so close was calming him, helping ease his anxiety and terror. "You died." His voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat. "In my dreams. You died in the arena, over and over. I couldn't save you."

Wiress looked up at him. "But you did. You saved me." Normally Beetee would protest, Wiress really saved herself, he was fairly certain she could have won even without the sponsorship gifts he had wrangled for her. Wiress had been brilliant and cutthroat. But right now, he took reassurance any way he could get it. "What can I do to help you? Would you like to have sex?" Beetee went stiff immediately, in _all_ senses of the word.

"I…I didn't come here for _that_ , I mean I didn't sneak into your room at night to try to…to get you…to…" Beetee sputtered.

Wiress laughed softly. "I know you didn't. It was an honest offer." She cupped his chin, fingers gently stroking his jaw line. Beetee couldn't even think properly, he was so flustered.

"Um…no, no thank you," Beetee managed. Was there a polite way to turn down sex? A way to state that he was so very very interested but perhaps it shouldn't happen in this fashion; perhaps it should be after a meal and a glass of wine and a lovely make out session? Wiress didn't seem offended, though.

"Alright." She smiled at him and brushed her lips against his, feather light. "The offer is there if you change your mind." She cuddled her body into his, fitting snugly into his arms. "I'm so grateful you saved me, but that's not why I offered, so you know." He kissed the top of her head, hair smooth as silk against his cracked and bitten lips. She sighed in happiness, and let herself drift back to sleep. Beetee fell asleep eventually, not a very restful sleep, but this time instead of Wiress dying, he dreamt of her touching him. Her moving above him, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Her kissing down his stomach, smiling wickedly as she reached her destination. Her mouth on his, feverish and needy as he thrust into her as quickly as he could. He still didn't feel well rested in the morning, but at least he could remember his dreams with much greater pleasure than he would have, had he stayed in his own bed.


	16. The Things We Do For Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things worth doing if they are for the one you love.

"You have gotten quite attached to your fellow mentor, have you not?" Snow phrased it as a question, but he knew. He had the confident air of someone who held your life in his hand. Wiress knew she was trapped. "There is a man, quite taken by your performance in the arena." Snow toyed with some papers on his desk. He held the power; he could show she wasn't worth his whole attention. "You'll be his, _only_ his, and we will let the inventor live."

"Yes." Wiress answered immediately. President Snow raised his eyebrows. The girl didn't show any emotion, her large eyes showed only slight curiosity. The tributes were usually harder to convince. They often needed a show of power. A death, an injury.

"You cannot be with your inventor as well," Snow warned. She nodded.

Wiress only wanted her own condition added. "We do not tell _him_ about this deal." Snow chuckled.

"He thinks you pure as an angel, then? Or do you prefer that he not know why you reject him?" Wiress broke eye contact for the first time in the whole meeting.

"I just…I don't want him to know I'm doing anything for him." She pressed her lips together. "I want him to be able to forget me." Snow didn't bother telling her how unlikely that was, he was fairly certain that she already knew.

"Your team is here. To get you fashionable for your new paramour." Snow escorted Wiress out of the room, into the hands of a stylist. "Remember to put on a good performance; your inventor is depending on it."

As soon as Wiress was out of sight, she shut her eyes against the lights and the pain. She'd give up anything for Beetee, _anything_. She hated having to give up Beetee himself, but what could she do? She would die in order to keep him safe.

 

Wiress was relieved, the next day, to board the train for District 3. She could be herself now. She removed the persona she had worn like a mask while with her Capitol suitor, protecting herself by showing him nothing of her true self. She had laughed and smiled and touched him, complimented him and engaged in sex enthusiastically. She had played her part as well as she could, while deep inside, her heart beat only for Beetee.

She entered her private car to find a vase full of white roses, with a short note, just "you pleased him" written in simple script. Wiress breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't over, it would never be over, but she had succeeded thus far. She would take a small victory. She hunched over in the dining area, head in her arms and forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window, watching the world go by. She wanted to work out the right way to tell Beetee, how to say that she was no longer interested in him, in pursuing a romantic relationship. There was no way that wouldn't hurt. But hurt was better than death. Hurt was better than chivalrously staying chaste and true to her, which is what he would do if he knew the truth. She hoped that perhaps Beetee could meet someone else. It was possible, he had a loving heart. It would find someone to be the object of its affection. She tamped down the jealousy writhing inside her. "Beetee should be happy," she whispered to herself. She gave herself one night to cry and be miserable, to get it all out and that was it. She arrived in District 3 with the tears dried and makeup over her reddened eyes.

 

Beetee was waiting to meet her at the train. She couldn't stop the flood of guilt and pain that ran through her at the sight of him. She drank in his face, his smile. He would hate her by the end of the day. This was likely the last time that sexy grin would be directed at her. "Welcome home!" He greeted her enthusiastically. She gave a weak smile in return, inclining her head towards the Victor's Village. "Everything okay?" He was confused, she could tell. She was usually so happy, so eager to see him. They walked to her house in silence, Beetee wanting to ask questions but recognizing that she wasn't ready to answer. Wiress motioned to her living room so Beetee would sit. It would be better to get this over with. She longed for one last kiss, but she didn't know any of President Snow's spying methods. One last kiss could be fatal for Beetee.

"I did a lot of thinking on the train," she began. Beetee nodded his encouragement. She bit her lip, not wanting to say the next words. "I don't feel the same about you." She hid her hands under her legs, dug her nails into her delicate skin so she had something to focus on other than his face, confused and unhappy.

"Same as what?"

"Same as you feel about me." She avoided his eyes. "I don't want…" She drifted off slightly, her brain shutting down the anxious part of her. "Don't want romance." He looked so lost. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, touch his face and tell him she adored him; but instead she pinched her leg where he couldn't see, pinched and focused on the pain.

"Wiress…" his voice was soft. Less confident than usual. "I thought we…I don't know what I thought. Thought there was something between us." Wiress shook her head. He reached out for her, then stopped himself. "I need…" He stood. "I need to leave." He paused a moment, as though hoping for her to stop him, but there was nothing. Wiress held herself together until the door closed, until she knew he was out of earshot. Then she allowed herself one tiny expression of anger.

"Is that good enough for you, Snow? Enough pain?" It would never be enough. She knew that. Her eyes were dry and her face was blank, but her heart was hurting. She was called up to the Capitol twice more that year. She didn't see Beetee, so she didn't need to think of an excuse, didn't need to trick him. If he even knew she left, she let him think what he wanted. Each time she returned to District 3, she felt extra weight in her heart, a small piece of her dying. Each time, she tried to distract herself with thoughts of Beetee, of loving him, of keeping him alive. When she left to mentor with Beetee, they kept their distance, although polite enough. They forgot themselves, once, laughing with the other mentors over some silly joke, some escapist humor to keep themselves sane, their hands finding each other's underneath the table, but the moment was broken almost immediately as they realized what they had done. Wiress moved as though she had been scalded.

She had to leave mentoring fully to Beetee for the first night of the games, as her lover wanted her to attend a party with him. She told Beetee she would be at an event to gain sponsors. It was at least a half truth. Beetee caught a glimpse of the party on one of the smaller control room screens, and he is the only person in Panem who could possibly read the deep sadness behind her eyes. He began to suspect. Beetee waited for her in the morning, waited to watch her come back to the suite in her same formal dress from the night before. She had let her mask drop before opening the door, not expecting him. She looked tired and miserable. Her eyes widened at Beetee sitting there, care for her wellbeing in his gaze. There was nothing to say. She hurried past him into her room, changed and returned to her spot in the mentor control room. This was confirmation enough for Beetee. He allowed his heart to continue loving Wiress, let himself hope that someday, whatever threat was holding Wiress down would be lifted.

 

Wiress went to the Capitol four times in the next year, returning aching and bruised as her lover became less happy with her and turned to darker things to ease his troubled soul. She didn't allow herself to cry, but Beetee wept for them both when he saw her battered state. She was called up a fifth time, expecting to experience more of the same, but instead, she was brought in front of President Snow once more. "He is no longer happy with you," Snow announced, shaking his head sadly. Wiress flinched slightly, closed her eyes against her fear. Snow took his time, showing off his power. "However, it is no fault of your own. He has become increasingly…unstable." Snow eyed a fading bruise at the side of her neck suggestively. "He is no longer to be rewarded." Wiress didn't release her tense breath. She waited for whatever trick or catch Snow was bound to put on her. "You have done well," he applauded her mockingly. "No complaints, very loyal. _You_ _are_ to be rewarded." She raised her eyes to his. He actually seemed somewhat sincere. "You may have your inventor, safe and sound." He smiled as though he were avuncular, giving a child a present, rather than just releasing his death threat against her love. "I do not guarantee your service to the Capitol is over forever, but you have earned some safety." He motioned for her to leave, finished and now bored with his little show. Wiress left immediately, practically ran to the train.

Wiress curled up on the couch on the train, trying to let herself believe this was true. She tried practicing explanations in her head, tried to picture Beetee's face rejecting her, just in case. The trip home took entirely too long for her nerves, and much too short for her brain. Unlike her first visit to the Capitol by herself, there was no one waiting for her when she stepped off the train. She forced herself to walk to the Victor's Village, forced herself to knock on Beetee's door gently as opposed to running and pounding on the door. She tried not to imagine happiness or hope on Beetee's face when he opened it to her. "May I come in?" she asked softly, eyes large and scared of rejection. He nodded and stepped back. She was clearly nervous, obviously quite jumpy. He smiled slightly, wanted to calm her.

"Did he release you?" She looked up, shocked at his words.

"You knew?" Her hands were clasped in front of her heart, as though they could literally shield it from any pain.

"I suspected," he admitted. "How did they blackmail you?" He wasn't judgmental, just curious.

"You." Her voice was soft, scared to admit it.

Beetee frowned. "Me? How…me?" He licked his lips, confused.

She took a step towards him, wanting to comfort. "They would kill you." She reached towards his face, but he clasped the hand in his before it touched him.

"You cared that much? That they could threaten you with me?"

She nodded. "Of course." He brought her clasped hand to his lips. "But I'm free, now," she said shyly. "If you still want me." He smiled at her and closed the distance between them.

"Of course," he echoed. He held her waist and kissed her gently, breath fogging up his glasses. That made her laugh, the first time she had laughed out loud in what felt like forever. "You protected me, you saved me." He kissed each cheek, her forehead, her eyelids, her chin. "You're a hero." He finally kissed her lips again, pulled her body as close to his as possible. "I would do the same for you," he told her.

"I hope you never have to," she whispered against his mouth.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment/review! Everything is helpful, even just telling me what story you like best (or hate least) so I can do more of that! Also, check out the beginning of my new story, A Life Together.


	17. Wiress' Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit experimental, I rarely write Wiress like this, but it was a lot of fun.

The first time I saw Beetee he was fidgeting and pushing his glasses up his nose because they are big on his face and he mostly looks under them anyway so I don't know why he wears them

The first time I saw Beetee he was on the stage at the reaping and my name was called and I

The first time I saw Beetee _in person_ and not just on TV was at the reaping.

He was my mentor. He was really funny, people don't seem to know that but he didn't give me a chance to dwell on the fact that I might die in the arena, he just helped me strategize and made me laugh. He acts a lot older because he has to mentor and he mentors kids almost his own age and has to seem like an adult. He's only four years older than me. At sixteen, I get a crush on him. I was pretty sure the odds are against me and I was going to die so I was glad that I at least get one last crush because it made me feel more human and honestly lately sometimes I feel like I might not be a human or like maybe I'm not alive anymore and maybe I died in the Games because this only started after the Games and I get scared and I don't know what is real so I start screaming and screaming and I don't stop screaming

Beetee says this is called post traumatic stress disorder.

Beetee was a really good mentor. I thought that if I could survive the bloodbath and then anything the gamemakers threw at me, I had a good chance. I'm too small to be much in a fight like the bloodbath but I knew that I could rig stuff for one on one, traps and explosives and all kinds of things that I didn't even have to be nearby for. Beetee helped me see that.

So, I won, you know I won and that's how I am here and I am able to tell you this. I won and I killed people and they didn't want to be killed they wanted to live but the Capitol made me I'm sorry I killed. My best days are when I don't have to think about the Games at all. Those are the days when I get the most work done, when I don't have distractions and I can focus on my machines because I am a really good inventor and I am making things that could really really help the districts so they are really important to me.

So I won and I see Beetee all the time and I am pretty much in love with him but he's a really wonderful person and I don't want to make him uncomfortable because I don't see any evidence of him being interested in me and I am twenty and he is twenty four so if he _was_ interested, he could say something because there isn't anything odd about our ages. He helps me a lot and he spends time with me but I understand I can be difficult to be around sometimes I wish I didn't have to be around me so there's a difference between being around me in general and something like dating me. I look at him sometimes and my heart flops around in my chest like a fish and I bet he can tell how I feel and what I'm thinking and I wish so much that he would just kiss me but that will never happen so I wish he would find _someone_ anyway, someone else maybe who loves him because he is a person who deserves to be loved. He really does. He killed but he isn't a killer, he's just a man who deserves to be happy and loved. I killed and I _am_ a killer

Beetee tells me I'm not a killer. That the things that happened in the Games don't count. I tell him he needs a girlfriend. He just laughs and asks where that would leave me, and I shut up because I feel like a burden. He takes my hand and we sit on the couch for a while, reading and chatting and I'm singing. I tell him again in the morning, that he should spend less time with me, he should leave me to fester by myself and take care of himself, find someone and be with them. He gets angry and says things, things my brain can't process because he's too loud, he's too angry sounding, and I just make myself very small and shut off everything until finally I just feel warm and he is holding me and apologizing and asking me to come back he is sorry so very sorry. He kisses my forehead and I come back, I don't want him to worry and I think I would do anything for him, my brilliant mentor.

We spend all our time together, inventing, eating, reading. Once I turned into lots of fish and he caught them all and put me back together. He says that isn't what actually happened so I don't know. I thought I remembered being fish. I do remember things wrong sometimes. Sometimes Beetee watches me and I wonder what he's thinking, I wonder if he wishes I could do better off on my own, I wonder if he wishes I could leave him alone. I don't want to, I don't want to leave I want to stay with him always so those are the times when I cuddle close to him and kiss his cheek. He gives me a sad look and I don't know what it means but all my words ran away so I can't ask, either. I like to rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat and I can stay calm like this for hours, and he kisses my forehead and whispers that he loves me but I don't answer because I can't ask, can't hear that he loves me like a child or a sister when I feel like an adult woman.

I tell him that, today. I tell him I'm not a child, I am a woman and I'm not sure he's aware of that but he just gets quiet and says he knows, he knows I am a woman and he should give me my space and I tell him _that's_ not what I want, I don't want him to go away, and he says it's very hard for him, it's difficult sometimes to be with me and know I'm a woman when he doesn't know how I feel and that makes me quiet because I always kind of thought he knew I loved him. He touches my face and tells me the love he wants is different than the love I want and I lean into his hand, I want him to keep touching my face so I kiss him, kiss him on the mouth and then he looks sad or maybe scared so I apologize, tell him if he doesn't want that, then we don't have to and if he never wants to have sex with me we don't have to and if he wants to stay like this forever we can. His eyebrows are raised and his glasses are fogged from my breath and he's shaking a little bit so I don't know what he wants until _he_ kisses _me_ and tells me he needs me with him, he needs me every bit as much as I need him and I don't think that's possible but he says oh yes it is and he gets the last word because his mouth is on mine and I won't give that up for anything


	18. Interested

He knew she was interested. She didn't need to say anything for him to know that she was interested in him.

Beetee had watched her Games out of obligation at first, he wasn't mentoring that year but he needed to stay up to date, then he watched with growing fascination for the wide eyed girl from his district. She performed brilliantly, and when he met her a few weeks later, he quickly realized that the fifteen year old was simply brilliant in all respects. Years of time mentoring together had turned them into a dynamic duo. Wiress was the quintessential absent minded professor, always getting distracted in the middle of sentences, her brain working so much quicker than her mouth that she couldn't carry on much of a conversation. Beetee was a natural born teacher and inventor, he could make the most extraordinarily complicated machines and then explain them so anyone could understand the concepts. He finished her sentences, she helped him when he was stuck on a problem. She worked on strategy with their tributes, he gave the pep talks. They were really a very good partnership.

So he wasn't sure how to handle the signs that she was hoping for something _more_. Yes, he was very attracted to her, and yes, had he been more age appropriate perhaps he would consider it, and yes, she was often the topic of his late night thoughts when he needed to release some tension. She was still lovely and elfin at thirty two, with a sweet soft voice and a sharp mind. Beetee was only too aware of how old he was, fifty three, with a bit of a pot belly and thick glasses. He didn't even know the last time he had sex, and that was because, truthfully, he was too embarrassed to figure it out. It was a matter of years, certainly. Just an old bachelor with nothing to offer a woman. Especially one with Wiress' past and her problems with communicating. It was likely that she just relied on him because he tended to know what she was thinking, and got those feelings mixed up with something else.

He had intended to work out a plan, find the perfect words to say that explained things better, but he wasn't prepared when Wiress joined him in his kitchen and poured out her heart. She said such wonderful things about him, and then looked at him so hopefully. He was so tempted to say yes, me too, to find out if he really deserves something this good, but he pushed that temptation down and did what he considered the _right_ thing. He broke her heart. She tried to put a good face on it, but Beetee knows her so well, he saw the tears in her eyes and heard the catch in her voice. He could tell that she believed she was the one at fault, the one lacking in something. That was funny because she was the one that he found so perfect, she was the one with the laughter like bells.

She gave him a wide berth for a while after that, still friendly, but clearly trying to make sure they weren't alone together. He missed their previous comfort level, the easy intimacy. He hated that they weren't close anymore. He hated having to catch glimpses of her from across the room instead of having her next to him, leaning in to whisper a joke. He hated that he couldn't throw his arm around her shoulder casually, that he wasn't the first person she turned to with problems any more.

He hated that he ruined what they had, just because she offered him so much more.


	19. A Wedding Night

Beetee looked down at his hand for the hundredth time that night. A ring. A little platinum ring on the third finger of his left hand. How could it be so small and yet mean so much? He moved his head slightly to gaze at his sleeping wife. _Wife_. She shifted in her sleep, throwing an arm up over her head. Her left arm. He smiled at the matching ring on her hand. It was like they were part of a club. A super-secret-two-members-only club. The word felt so right, too. _Wife_. His wife, Wiress. The woman who made him live. Not just exist, but _live_.

He had been so miserable before her, mentoring children just to see them die horrifically days later. He didn’t have anyone to turn to, anyone to comfort him. He hadn’t seen any hope until one of his tributes proved to be a fighter. He put effort and time into her, and was rewarded when the spunky eighteen year old brought back a win for District 3. Wiress. She had fought every moment of those Games, she had given everything she had in order to win those games, even, some feared, her sanity. Beetee refused to give up on her; he sat and talked with her for hours, got to understand the way she thought, the way she spoke. He was soon satisfied that she was just as sane and intelligent as she ever was. Most people didn’t have the same patience, and Beetee stood by her so she wouldn’t ever be alone. He told himself that he was just lonely, eager to have someone to share responsibility with, but he was fairly certain, deep down, that he had fallen for the delicate woman.

Beetee had tried to keep his distance, unwilling to begin something based on either gratitude or pity, and eventually Wiress was the one softly and hesitantly confessing her love for him. He had actually taken her out for their first date, to ice skate on the frozen rink in the District center. She loved skating fast, almost like flying, and Beetee was happy to watch her, safely holding onto the side of the rink. He invited her in afterwards, with plans of building a fire and drinking cocoa, but she was willing and eager, and they fell into bed together like horny teenagers. He had been afraid, the next morning, that she would be gone or it would be a dream or that she would have only wanted the one night, but she woke up smiling, cuddling into his arms and chatting about plans for the day. She continued to be interested in him, attracted to him, even when he felt his most awkward or depressed. They mentored well together, forming a team that did the best with what they had, but were inevitably crushed when their tributes didn’t make it past the second day. It was amazing how much more survivable everything seemed when one had a partner.

Their dating was what most people would see as marriage. They spent a lot of time together, just enjoying the domesticity of sharing space. They shared a bed, a bed that they had sex in and slept in but also cuddled in, comforted each other in, spent lazy rainy days curled up in. They realized that they had been in love for most of the time they knew each other. After that long, they knew they had to be together. They _needed_ each other. Beetee began asking Wiress to marry him only a few months after that first date. She would laugh with happiness, tease him, never say yes, but never say no. They continued this dance for years, until last week, Wiress came home with a new dress the exact color of her eyes, and left a form she picked up at the Justice Building on the kitchen table. It was her way of finally saying yes.

Beetee curled his body around Wiress’ sleeping form. She smiled and snuggled in her sleep. He thought she was adorable. Married. They were married now. It would probably take ages for it to really sink in. He kissed her bare shoulder. She stirred, waking in his arms. “Can’t sleep?”

He smiled into her skin. “Too worked up, I think.”

“I would have thought I wore you out,” she teased. He kissed her shoulder again.

“You certainly tried your hardest.” She smiled, turning to face him and drape an arm over his chest. “I love you, Wiress.” She craned her neck to kiss his cheek, soft lips brushing the scruff growing there.

“I love you too.” She gazed up at him, concern in her eyes. “Is anything wrong?” He shook his head.

“Not a thing. Everything’s right.” He smiled at her as proof. “I don’t know what life would be like if I didn’t have you.”

She gently touched his face. “You won’t need to find out. That’s what we just promised. Till death do us part.” He kissed her forehead.

“Only one thing to worry about. Hmm. I guess that’s better than the eight million different ways you could have left me before.” He chuckled.

Wiress snuggled her body even closer to his. “Even before this. I would never leave you.” She couldn’t get close enough to him to satisfy her, so she climbed on top of him to press her whole body against his. “Stop worrying.” She kissed him. “Don’t think about things like that.” He kissed back, his worried thoughts easily evaporating to be replaced with sexy ones of the naked woman on top of him. His naked _wife._


	20. Dreams and Reality

Beetee lives for the moments at night when he lies in his bed, not quite asleep yet. That's when he can almost feel Wiress there, next to him. District 13 is so cold, so sterile, but she brings with her a warmth and a glow that seems to fill his entire soul. "I miss you," he whispers into the air. His dream Wiress strokes his forehead, comforting him.

"That's okay. You're allowed to miss me." A few tears spill over his cheeks. "I'm dead, you're _supposed_ to miss me." With his eyes closed, it's so easy to pretend that they really connect during these times. He never believed in an afterlife before Wiress died. Now he thinks there has to be _something_ because he really feels her sometimes, it's so different from talking to himself, it feels like there is a space between dreaming and reality and that's where they meet.

"I don't know how to live without you, Wire." He whispers out all his sorrows during these times. "I don't know what to do with myself." He reaches for her hand, and he can _almost_ believe that her fingers slip between his.

"You'll do it, Bee. You'll live and thrive and do great things." Dream Wiress is wise and comforting. Dream Wiress makes him feel loved and happy. During the day, he usually feels empty and lost.

"I'm trapped in a wheelchair." He spent so much of his life sitting anyway, still in front of a worktable, but being forced to stay in this chair is unbearable. He hates his weak, broken body.

The Wiress he imagines, or otherwise communicates with, doesn't have patience for this self pity. "So? Your brain isn't touched. What are legs compared to the amazing things you've created?" He thinks that if Wiress was just a figment of his imagination, she would understand, she wouldn't be so harsh with her tough love. "If I was there, do you think I would stop loving you because of that chair?"

Beetee knows that would never happen.

"The chair isn't important," Wiress insists. "Your _life_ is important. You lived. I'm so glad you survived." Beetee has wished thousands of times that he hadn't.

"I would have given my life for yours," he tells her. He would have done it without hesitation. He just never got the chance. Beetee either feels or just imagines he feels her lips whisper across his.

"I would never have wanted that. I truly would not have been able to handle living without you. I don't think I would have survived the loss of you. You can live without me, I know it. You're strong. Besides, without you, how would the rebellion be able to break into the Capitol's broadcast signal?"

She's right, that doesn't really fall under her field of expertise. Beetee is sure that Wiress would have come up with some equally devious plan, but it would have been much different. Used Wiress' strengths. That is, assuming she was lucid and coherent without Beetee there to comfort her. Still, these aren't times when Beetee wants to use logic or reason. These are the times when Beetee needs Wiress, wants her to be alive and happy and laughing again. He wants to touch her and he wants to help her with her projects and most of all he wants to _love_ her again, just have her smile back at him when he says he loves her.

Beetee doesn't want to keep living without her, but he does. He goes and spends every day alone and unhappy, going through the motions. He creates the weapons that win the war, and feels the guilt over the many who died from them. A real, living Wiress would have helped him shoulder this responsibility, would have made the pain and grief bearable, just as she did every reaping day and every time they mentored together. She always made him feel like life goes on, like there was hope in the world. He didn't have to look far to prove that there was still beauty in the world. She was beautiful and vibrant, her large eyes full of love for him, her full lips pressed against his. She had been his entire heart, and he feels so cold without her.

"You have to learn to cope, dearest. You have to learn to live without me." In his head, Wiress' voice is worried. He knows why, he knows that he's slipping into darkness, into depression. Gale has begun giving him odd looks out of the corner of his eye, checking up on him. Beetee can't take it anymore. If he thought he was at all capable of learning to live without her, he wouldn't have taken the careful time to save up his sleeping pills without anyone noticing. He finally has enough to be sure. That's why her voice is worried. He doesn't know if it is Wiress speaking out to him or if it is the voice of his subconscious doubts, but he tries to ignore it all the same.

"Beetee. Life is worth living. Didn't I teach you that? I _want_ you to live." The voice is soft and pleading, now. Beetee clenches his eyes shut, trying to tune out the words. "There is still so much you can do, so much to make me even prouder. There's so much life left for you." Beetee's attempts to ignore it all are clearly in vain. He wants to be firm in his resolve, his life is _his_ and he wants to end it. That's all.

"YOU AREN'T REAL" he shouts, his voice echoing in his assigned quarters. The space is small, his voice silenced Wiress', silenced his fears. Everything is so quiet for several minutes. Beetee sits in his wheelchair, hot tears streaming down his face.

"It doesn't matter if I'm real." Wiress' voice is calm, matter of fact. "I _was_ real, and I _did_ love you and the Beetee I loved wouldn't do this. Wouldn't dream of it. He would miss me, he would always love me, but he would attack this new world with enthusiasm. A world without the Capitol. What I'd always hoped for."

Beetee could swear that these thoughts didn't come from inside his head; he could swear that she was actually behind him, just out of sight, speaking to him.

"My Beetee would keep inventing, maybe teach. He could start a school, and if he really wanted to honor me, he could name something after me. His death wouldn't honor anything. It would be a waste." Beetee picks up his bottle of sleeping pills. They're small and white, they look inviting.

"Don't waste your life, Beetee!" Wiress is very clearly angry. He can count the number of times he has heard Wiress angry on one hand. She rarely ever shouted, but now she is positively shrieking at him, horrified by his actions. If the real Wiress was here, acting like this, he would do everything in his power to stop it. To make her happy again. To calm her and comfort her. He would never in a million years want to be the cause of her distress. He puts down the bottle.

"Wiress?" He calls to the empty air. "I love you, Wiress. I just want to be with you again."

The word _someday_ reverberates in his mind, Beetee feels arms around him. He really does, he knows nothing is there but he closes his eyes and he can feel her arms, her hair brushing his face, he can smell the flowers in her shampoo and the sweetness of her breath. It's as if Wiress is there, forcing him to recognize…to recognize that Wiress would have given her life to protect his as quickly as he would have for her. That if she died for him, she would want him to truly live. To not waste her valuable gift. He thinks back to the idea of a school. The idea of a new, Capitol-free world. For the first time, he considers what Wiress would do, if she were in this post-war world. He begins to see all of the possibilities.

His mind made up, Beetee wheels out of his room. His soul feels lighter with every rotation of the wheels, the further he pushes himself down the hallway, the more sure he feels. He knocks on a door, determined. When it opens, he nods at the sleepy person in front of him and holds out the bottle of pills.

"What the hell is this?" Gale asks, stepping aside to let Beetee enter.

"Get rid of them for me, will you? I'm going to need some help." Gale sits and listens as Beetee outlines plans for a school, a university for promising youth. He is glad to see Beetee with a purpose again.

Beetee never heard that voice at night anymore, but he didn't miss it. He held Wiress in his heart, where she belonged.


	21. The Hovercraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been having a crazy lack of inspiration lately, I have about a million snippets of 100 or 200 words, but I can't force them into stories. So please send me any inspiration, prompts, things you'd like to see, or even just song lyrics. It's all very helpful. Your comments/reviews are all really helpful too. If I haven't responded to you personally, just know that I really really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think.
> 
> So here, enjoy this Post Quarter Quell AU!

I wake up slowly, disoriented and in pain. I don't know what's real, don't know really what happened. The last thing I remember was being in the arena, Wiress and I removing each other's trackers, then…pain. Darkness. I try to open my eyes but the light hurts. If I was hurt…and the last thing I remembered was being with Wiress… I force my eyes open to look around the room. There are other beds like the one I'm in, but no Wiress. She isn't here. I can barely control my reaction, I pull away from all the machines around me, causing them to shrilly ring an alarm. I try to get out of the bed, but I'm dizzy and nothing is working right, so I just slide, fall to the floor. I begin to shout when I hear footsteps running towards me. "Wiress! Where's Wiress?!" I'm pulled into arms, bundled back into bed. When my vision clears, I see that Haymitch and Plutarch are the ones who came to my aid, and Haymitch has his hand firmly clamped over my mouth to stop my shouting. He only stops when he sees that I'm sensible again, ready to listen.

"I warned you not to split them up," Haymitch says smugly.

"She's fine, she's fine, she's just with Katniss. Separated men and women." Plutarch tries to be soothing, but Haymitch actually knows us, they should have listened to him. "You're both safe, on your way to District 13."

Haymitch rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "She woke up a bit ago and they had to sedate her, she was so upset. Told them she'd calm right down if she could just see you, but no, they don't listen to Haymitch, apparently." He shakes his head and Plutarch avoids my eyes, mumbling something about 'protocol'.. I picture Wiress waking up without me; she would have been a mess, unsure of what was reality. She just needed proof that I was alive. I'm getting more and more upset, knowing what unnecessary pain she must have gone through.

"Left her alone?" My voice is hoarse; they must have had a tube down my throat at some point.

Haymitch understands, because he shakes his head. "Finnick's sitting with her. Not that he's doing too well himself. Gotta say, us survivors are a sorry bunch."

I don't reply because the quiet is pierced by a fierce shriek. I hate how easily I can recognize my partner's screams of terror. I automatically try to get up and run to her, but I almost fall out of bed again. My legs just won't _work_. Haymitch picks me up and places me in a wheelchair. I'll have to demand some answers about myself later, she needs me. The absolute second she can see me, Wiress stops screaming, now she's more confused, not able to separate delusions and reality. She's had bad panic attacks before like this, I can only imagine how much worse being sent back into the Games made this one. Finnick is holding her hand, but it doesn't seem to give her much comfort when she wants me.

"I'm real, Wiress. This is real life." I stroke her face, and she leans in to my touch. "We're safe, love." Her eyes slowly focus on my face, and her breathing slows. Her hair is wild, curls spread out around her, making her look even smaller and more delicate.

"Oh, sparks, Beetee. You're real." I pull her hand to my lips for a kiss. There are tears running down Wiress' face and I want to kill them for splitting us up, for ignoring Haymitch and putting her through this.

"I'm right here, love," I whisper. Finnick gives me a weak smile and leaves the room; Katniss' bed is empty, so we have privacy. "I'm right here and not going anywhere."

"Love." She smiles at me. "love, love, love." I don't think she's altogether back with us yet. It's hard to tell how soon she will be lucid after an attack. I'm just glad that she's smiling at me and we're touching. "You were hurt." I nod. "That was real? You were bleeding so much and then the blood rain came. You were hurt again, at the end." She touches the bandage on my arm lightly, not seeming to notice the identical one on hers. I wonder if she's remembering that she held the knife that made that cut.

"The trackers, livewire. We took them out for each other." She frowns.

"Not just that. You were hurt. Enobaria?" I really didn't want to upset her, but she's more upset when she doesn't know what is real.

"I don't know how badly I've been hurt. They won't tell me yet." She gazes into my eyes.

"But alive. We're both alive." She repeats that a few more times, chanting it like a mantra so she knows it's true. I can barely believe it either. There were several close calls, my injury at the cornucopia, hers on the beach, all the really bad things happened when we didn't stay side by side; it makes me want to never let her out of my sight again.

Haymitch pops his head in the door. "We're almost there. We're getting you both to the hospital wing right away, find out the extent of that damage." I nod and turn back to Wiress.

"Hear that? They'll take care of us." I shoot her a small smile. She sits up carefully, making sure not to tug on any of the medical equipment connecting her to machines. She's biting her lip and eyeing the wheelchair I'm in. I think she's lucid, back in the real world. Her eyes meet mine and she leans forward for a deep kiss. I can still taste the salt of her tears, but she's warm. She throws her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly while she darts her tongue into my mouth. For the first time, I start thinking that we might be okay. I don't know what's wrong with my legs, I don't know how much mental harm this has done to Wiress, but we are alive and together and in love.


	22. She's the Intuitive One

The party is getting noisy, mentors wanting to lose themselves and their pain in alcohol, music, dancing. I feel the same, the bustle going on around me makes me forget the two children in bed downstairs, resting for training tomorrow. Resting before they die. The view from the roof is amazing, and I stay there, on the sidelines, observing. As always, my eyes are drawn to one small figure in particular. Wiress is dancing with her usual lack of caring what people think. She's beautiful. She catches my gaze, and grins, dancing her way over to me. "Hi, Beetee." I hold my arms out to her, and she tilts her head, indicating that we should move to the next window down. I'm confused, but follow her anyway. Her eyes dart around the party, then she smiles, puts her drink down, and leans into me so I can hold her.

"You're in an awfully good mood tonight, livewire."

Wiress sighs happily. "It's kind of like a family, isn't it?"

I hold her close. "A bit. In that I there's a bunch of them I don't like seeing and I'm still forced to."

Wiress shakes her head. "Not these guys. We're…"

"The good ones, I know. Non-careers, the ones who have a sense of humor and a sense of decency." I kiss her forehead. "Is that why you're so happy?"

Wiress steps out of my arms and grabs my hands instead, glances around and meets my eyes. "I saw a broadcast that I'm not sure I was supposed to see," she whispers. I now understand why she chose this spot. I placed the music player near one of the three bugs I spotted on the roof, and here we are as far as we can be from the other two. I raise my eyebrow at her.

"He's dead." She whispers. My thoughts race.

"Who?"

She widens her eyes, frustrated at me not being able to guess. She's the intuitive one, not me, and truthfully, her brain works quicker than mine. And also takes completely different paths. It's a testament to our connection that I know what she means as often as I do, but there are times when I add two and two to make four, where she has some very convincing arguments for five.

" _Cloudstone!"_ she hisses.

I involuntarily drop her hands. When you win the games, you become a commodity to the Capitol, in particular to President Snow. You don't just get to survive and be free and live your life. No, he asks for favors. He asked me to design weapons for him; electrical ones like I used in the arena. I said no, and he killed my family. He asked Wiress to design weapons, she said no, so he prostituted her. It's disgusting and awful, he handed Wiress over to Gladiolus Cloudstone like he owned her. Cloudstone has seen her about seven or eight times in the five years since she won, and Wiress always returns bruised and weeping. He seems, or seemed, I guess, to think that she was his girlfriend. That he didn't buy her, but instead she loved him and came of her own free will. He made Wiress talk and act that way too. To the best of her ability she had to pretend to be happy to see him, to love him, to want sex with him, and all starting at the age of sixteen. I have never been so glad someone is dead in my entire life.

"You don't think…" I stop to collect my thoughts. She stares at me with her huge blue eyes, and I could easily forget everything I have ever wanted to say."You don't think Snow will just find someone new, someone…maybe…worse?" I want to be happy, I'm just worried.

"Possibly." She touches my face. Her hand is cold from the night air, and I lean into it, my poor attempt to warm her up. She looks so fragile in the moonlight, and I'm so helpless to protect her. She gazes up at me. Then she swigs the rest of her drink and pulls me towards the dancers. If Wire has decided that we will be happy tonight and hope there's no bad news tomorrow, so be it. After all, she may be right. She is the intuitive one.


	23. Comfort

Wiress tried to blink back her tears. She tried so hard to be strong, she really did, but it didn't seem to be of any use. She had barely made it out of the mentor room before she broke down. She wasn't supposed to let the others see her so weak. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and angrily jabbed the button for the elevator. She couldn't block out the screams in her head, the screams of the dying children.

"Wiress." She didn't need to turn around, she knew who was the only person who would follow her. She also knew that she didn't need to fake being strong for him. The elevator doors opened, and she let Beetee take her hand and lead her in. She leaned into his side, breathing in his unique, comforting smell.

"The death, Beetee…" she tried to explain herself. He simply put his arm around her. They stopped on the third floor. She was almost to the suite. She could cry there, if she wanted. She blinked some more, refusing to let out a single tear where anyone other than Beetee could see her. She sniffed. Beetee paused in order to kiss her hair. "I…I need…" She couldn't finish her sentence. She wasn't even sure how she wanted to finish it. Still, somehow Beetee always knew. He always knew what she needed. He pulled her into their suite and closed the door behind them. He didn't allow her a moment for crying, he just pressed her against the door for a deep kiss.

His breath was so warm against her neck as he pressed his lips to her skin. His hands were on her waist over her shirt, rubbing small soft circles, encouraging her to relax and enjoy herself. Wiress clenched her eyes shut, trying to drown out every thought that wasn't _him_ , his _touch_ , his _love._ His beard brushed against her cheek, his mouth on her ear. It was so wonderful, and yet…she couldn't focus. Beetee could feel her body language, leaned back to look into her face.

"It's okay, Wiress. I understand." He cupped her face, pulling it again to his own. "It's perfectly alright for you to be upset." He gave her several small kisses and led her to sit on the bed.

"I just hoped that by now…"

"Mentoring wouldn't upset you so much? Wire, it's only your third year. Give it time. You'll learn how to handle it more healthily. For now, let me help you." His dark eyes were so loving, she knew he would do anything to help her with the pain. He was the most wonderful thing in her life.

"Just touch me more, please." Wiress lifted her large eyes to his, pressed a delicate hand to his chest. He smiled gently at her, kissed her forehead.

"I love you so much." His mouth met hers; she leaned into the gentle pressure of her bottom lip captured between his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, large hands covering as much of her back as possible. She felt so protected, so treasured. Her one hand stayed on Beetee's chest, leveraging her against the sweet onslaught of his kisses, the other hand stroked through his hair, smooth as silk. She was having an easier time, now. His kisses were demanding and passionate, she had to pay attention to him and only him. There wasn't any space left in her brain for screams or blood. Her muscles loosened, she relaxed slightly into his arms. Suddenly, she didn't even want to sit up anymore. She leaned back, pulled him to the bed with her.

"Here," she murmured, pulling Beetee over her. She smiled at him, kissed his mouth, chin, cheek. He laughed softly. "Handsome…" she whispered. He held himself above her on all fours, wanting to keep his weight off her. He kissed her back, kept her too busy to think, eventually sinking to his elbows in order to press his entire body along the line of hers.

"Wiress," he moaned gently into her neck. His mouth skimmed along her shoulder, down along her collarbone. "You're my partner," he pressed kisses to the top of her cleavage, "I love you." She gasped as he dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat and again when he moved his hand to cup a breast.

She wiggled slightly to press herself into his hand, "More," she pleaded. He grinned into her shoulder. She ran one hand through his hair again, lightly running her nails against his scalp, the way he liked. He made a sound of pleasure so she kept doing it, other hand slipping under his sweater to lie against his warm back. He nipped at her shoulder, tiny bites that made her sigh in pleasure. "Beetee…love me."

"I do."

She held him as close to her body as she could. Wiress wanted no distance between them, no space for any bad thoughts or feelings to sneak into her head. Just love and Beetee. That's all she wanted. "I love you, Bee." He kissed her again, ran his tongue along the inside of her lips. She kissed him back, hot and needy. Her entire world shrank down to the two of them. This was exactly what she needed. They were side by side on the bed, his hands caressing her breasts, her tongue in his mouth. They were both still fully clothed, but to Wiress, this was just as intimate as sex. They were both laid bare to each other.


	24. Difficult Choices

He went into the meeting hoping for a negotiation. Hoping that there was something he could do to protect the sweet but mentally unhinged girl in his charge. He would do anything to save her, but he wouldn’t show them that. He was falling in love with her, but he knew better than to show them that.

He left the meeting shaken. As always, there were heavy costs to anything. Costs that could take a worse toll than the original. He needed to speak this over with Wiress, he just hoped she was having a good day. She needed to be coherent. She needed to understand her choices. Beetee brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. He knew what his choice would be. Then again, he knew the soul crushing feeling of being whored out for the Capitol. Not very often, but often enough to give him more nightmares, to make him uneasy when his doorbell rang, to make him dread any and all Capitol visits.

He opened the door to the District Three suite to find Wiress there in the living room, pacing. Her head swiveled as the door opened, relief washing over her face as she saw him. “I didn’t know where you were,” she said, softly. Her voice sounded calm, but her eyes were still panicky. He should have left a note. He wasn’t used to being half of something yet, not used to letting someone know where he is and when he’ll be back. Wiress needed that, though, to keep her anxiety and fears in check. Beetee simply wasn’t used to having someone around who _cared_ about him.

“I’m sorry. It was a meeting.” Beetee took Wiress’ hand in his and led her to the couch. Wiress stayed silent, but she was clearly terrified and eager to know what had happened. “You know about victors…” He began hesitantly. He truly wished he could shield her from this, keep the tiny eighteen year old girl in front of him innocent and unharmed. “…victors _belong_ to the Capitol. Each and every one of us is used in some way.”

Wiress could tell he was uncomfortable. “It’s usually sex.” Her voice was flat and emotionless. “Have I been given an assignment?” She might have sounded matter of fact about it, but Beetee saw the clenching of her fists, the sadness in her eyes, the instinctive tightening of her crossed legs. She should have known not to try to hide from Beetee, they _knew_ each other. He had studied every inch of her body in bed. He could read her so easily.

“That’s just it…” He gulped, trying to find the right words to explain. “I wanted to protect you, save you.” He saw Wiress shake her head at that. “I went to this meeting to see what I could do. And they made an offer.”

Wiress’ eyebrows flew up. “Offer?” Her clenched fists now covered her mouth. “What is the price…” her voice drifted off, her mind probably thinking of millions of horrible things they could be forced to do. Beetee doubts she would hit upon the one the Capitol chose.

“They won’t offer you out, won’t make you their…prostitute, if…” he tried to gather his words, but Wiress touched his arm gently, unable to bear the suspense. “If they get something else out of you. Motion images. Recordings. Neither of us will be forced to be with others, if we let them film us.” Beetee practically forced the words out of his mouth, ashamed and embarrassed.

“Us?” Wiress’ eyes went wide, understanding dawning slowly. “Us…sex?” Beetee nodded, unable to meet her gaze.

“Pornography or prostitution…those are the choices. And we’re _victors._ Considered the _lucky ones_ ,” he spat out.

Wiress looked down at her lap. “Did they know…about us?” He wished he had good news to tell her. She sounded so sad and sweet.

“They must have. Or guessed. Or didn’t care. I’m so sorry.” Beetee felt like he should have known better. Should have been the strong one since he was older and presumably wiser. Should have held the temptation at bay, should have recognized their mutual attraction and stayed away from her all together. He should never have given in.

Then he looked up, met Wiress’ eyes and knew that there was no way fate or destiny or what-have-you would have allowed that. They were meant to have met and have kissed and have been together. They were meant to _be_ together. “I’m sorry too.” Wiress lifted a small hand to stroke his cheek. His face was rough from not shaving for a few days, and she smiled at the feeling against her palm. “This involves both of us. Do we…” her voice trailed off, a habit Beetee was quickly growing used to. “We share our bodies and sexuality either way, don’t we?” She bit her lip. “I wasn’t going to say this…but, it might make a difference.” Wiress sat straight up and met his eyes, still cradling his face in her hand. “I love you. It’s soon and strange…but I feel it so strongly…”

Beetee felt warm, warmth all over seeping into his limbs. Her love. Somehow he had earned her love. “I love _you_.” He smiled back at her, pausing a moment to meet her eyes before he leaned forward into a kiss. They didn’t stop at one kiss, or even two. They were picking their discarded clothing back up off the floor by the time either of them thought about their choice again.

If they chose the prostitution, they each would have to share their bodies with strangers. They would have to have sex and play the part of the devoted lover, even if for one night at a time. They could be called up at any time, together or separately. Sent to please any one, without consideration of age, gender, attractiveness, or health.

If they chose the pornography, they would only have intercourse with each other. No one else would be physically _inside_ Wiress, but there could be thousands of eyes greedily devouring every inch of her body instead of one who paid a hefty price for the privilege. They would have to take the loving pleasure they shared already and make a mockery of it in front of cameras, in front of others. It might taint the act itself, seeping back into their relationship like a poison.

Wiress shut her eyes to focus her thoughts. She remembered a story she read once, one of many she learned from old contraband books found amongst rubble and trash. “The lady or the tiger,” she mused.


	25. In the Middle of the Night

Beetee stirred at the first sounds of crying. A quick glance at Wiress showed how much she desperately needed sleep. She was usually up in a flash if Coil made so much as a peep. Beetee slid out of bed carefully so he didn’t disturb her, and hoped that the baby was just being fussy so he didn’t need to wake Wiress to nurse.

Coil calmed when Beetee entered the room. If she wasn’t hungry, then she must have just wanted attention, Beetee reasoned, since she had everything else she needed. Dry diaper, blanket, her little stuffed cat. He lifted his daughter from her crib to cuddle her in the nearby rocking chair.

“Why are you crying, my dear?” She cooed and grabbed at his glasses. “Don’t you know you’re going to wake Mama? She needs to be asleep so she can play with you tomorrow.” Coil made more nonsense baby sounds, a spurt of syllables. “That’s a good argument, I’ll give you that.” Beetee ran his fingers over Coil’s fine baby hair, a tried and true way to calm her. “You need sleep too, or else you will be quite the grump tomorrow.” Coil grasped one of his fingers as she nestled into his chest. He hummed a little bit, one of the songs he’d heard Wiress sing as a lullaby. Between the rocking, the stroking of her hair, and the song, Coil’s eyes began to shut and she yawned. Beetee kept humming, admiring the baby in his arms. She was theirs. A product of him and Wiress. A mixture of their genes. Most people who saw her said she resembled Beetee more thus far, but Beetee caught every little part of Wiress in her. The way she blinked less when looking at your face, as though she could hear what you were thinking. The curve of her upper lip, the cupid’s bow creating a natural pout. The way she was stubborn, wanting things a specific way, even at nine months old, Coil was very particular.

Beetee left these thoughts as a soft voice joined his song, singing the words to the tune he hummed. Wiress joined them at the rocking chair, gently holding onto Beetee’s shoulders. Coil’s breathing grew steady and her grip slackened. Wiress only took Coil out of his arms when they were fairly certain she would stay asleep. “Good night, I love you, pumpkin,” Wiress whispered, placing the child back in her crib. They stayed silent as they backed out of the nursery and carefully left the door only open a crack.

“I tried not to wake you,” Beetee whispered as they made their way back to the bed. Wiress shrugged.

“I wouldn’t miss family time…” she smiled, the brilliant grin that had first attracted Beetee to her. She pulled all the covers up around her neck, warming herself up. “She’ll be hungry in about two hours, so it doesn’t matter.” Beetee pulled her close against him.

“I still can’t believe we’re parents.”

“Feels like we’re still…” Wiress’ voice drifted off.

“Kids?” Wiress nodded.

“But I wouldn’t change it.”

“Not for anything,” Beetee agreed.


	26. Meeting in a Tree

Beetee waited for her to appear. He waited and waited. He waited for an hour and a half. She never came. He should have known. Why in the world would one of the prettiest and most liked girls in his class agree to meet him, spend time with him? This didn't really seem like her, Beetee had never seen her be deliberately mean, but maybe she had a hidden cruel streak. Or maybe she had said "yes" sarcastically, or jokingly, and he had misunderstood. Beetee sighed. At least she hadn't brought a group of people to watch and laugh at him. He stood up slowly, shaking the pins and needles feeling out of his limbs, and grabbed his backpack from against the tree he'd been leaning on. He didn't bother brushing the dirt off his bag or his pants. It didn't even matter.

Beetee was lost in his own thoughts as he headed through the grove of trees; there was some anger there, but mostly self pity. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't see the shape in the tree ahead until it hung from a branch, brandishing a stick at him.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"What?" Beetee dropped his bag. "Are you okay? Do you need help down?" He grasped the girl around the waist and pulled her out of the tree, ignoring her scowl and kicks. "There, safe on the ground." He shook his head in exasperation and reached back for his bag. The girl jabbed her stick at his hand.

"War bounty. You'll have to leave that with me. You can't have your things in the dungeon." She kept the fierce expression on her face enough that Beetee good naturedly went along. She was pretty adorable, and he reasoned that he had nowhere else to be.

"Okay, you caught me!" He raised his arms in surrender and let the girl march him to another tree.

"This is the dungeon," she stated, matter-of-factly. "It's all made of stone and really drafty and there's people begging to be let out." She motioned with her stick for him to sit. He didn't move quickly enough, so she poked him in the belly.

"Ow! I'm going!" He sat.

"I'm Wiress." The girl still held her stick, but had apparently decided to make friends. "I thought you should know my name, since you're my prisoner and all."

"I'm Beetee." He smiled at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, and it faded rather quickly.

"What's wrong?" She kicked at the dirt with her shoe, investigating his face.

"I've been captured by a wild savage, placed in her dungeon." He shrugged. "It's not my best day." Wiress scowled again.

"I'm not a savage. I'm a vigilante. A hero. And maybe an empress." She shrugged, echoing him from a moment before. "And something is wrong. You're sad."

Beetee shook his head. "Heroes fight bad guys," he argued, "I'm not a bad guy, I shouldn't be in the dungeon. You should set me free, so I can help fight crime."

"No, you're sad. No one gets to leave if they're sad. You have to stay in the dungeon."

"Okay, but the dungeon wouldn't cheer anyone up, so that doesn't make sense…and honestly I don't need this, I don't need to be arguing with a six year old…" Beetee drifted off as he saw the furious look on Wiress' face. He hadn't meant to insult her. He didn't have any siblings; he was legitimately bad at guessing ages. She must have seen something of that in his face, her anger went away quickly.

"I'm eight." She frowned a little. "But I'm _almost_ nine."

Beetee smiled. "Well, I'm sixteen. So you can't imprison me, I'm older."

"But _I'm_ the one with the stick." That was true. Wiress poked at his belly again. "My sister says you have to let it out if you want the sad to go away. You should let the sad out. I'll listen. I'm a _very_ good listener." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Because I'm very smart." She winked.

So Beetee ended up sitting on the grass with his legs crossed, telling the whole story to the only person who likely even cared. An eight year old girl he met in a tree. She was a surprisingly good listener.

"Maybe she couldn't go." Wiress shrugged. "Got grounded, so she couldn't call. Or some practice ran late. Or her mom got sick and she needed to watch her brother. Something like that."

"Those actually sound…plausible." Beetee frowned in thought. "I just… I guess there's at least a chance that she did actually want to meet me."

"Yeah," Wiress looked at him as though he was stupid. "I mean, you're just about the handsomest person I've ever seen so why wouldn't she want to?" Beetee smiled. She really was very sweet. "Yup. I needed the smile to be sure. Definitely handsomest." She jumped to her feet, picking up her stick again. "You're pretty nice, too."

"Oh yeah?" Beetee stood and picked a leaf out of the small girl's hair. She nodded emphatically.

"You just spent a lot of time with me. And talked to me. Sometimes people talk differently to kids. And I'm not a little kid. I _understand_ things." She poked her stick at the ground. "So if I was this girl, I wouldn't miss the meeting unless I really had to, so I think you should give it a chance, just in case." Her eyes stayed on the dirt and grass, refusing to look at Beetee.

"Thanks." He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. "You've been a really big help." Wiress' face broke into a grin. He was pretty sure she had a crush.

"Thanks for playing along! Don't forget to fight crime!" She waved.

Beetee left feeling much better about himself.

Wiress had been right; the girl was stuck at track practice and couldn't contact him. They went out a few times but didn't click. He saw Wiress a few times around the District, and always waved and talked for a few minutes. A few months later, Beetee was reaped.

Wiress was there to speak to him before he left. She hugged him and told him she knew he would win.

His first thought, after his electric trap succeeded, was that Wiress had been right.

He closed himself off from most people afterwards. He was viewed as someone frightening. A freak, a killer. Wiress still stopped by his house in the victor's village for the occasional chat or help with her homework. She made sure Beetee wasn't alone.

He was there, eight years later, sitting on the stage when _her_ name was called at the reaping. He mentored her and got her sponsors. She was the one who really got herself the win.

He was there when she returned, haunted by what she had done, broken speech and broken focus making people label her crazy. He made sure Wiress wasn't alone.

Loving her came not much long after.


	27. Years Gone By

5

At five years old, Wiress’ parents discover that she is gifted. Her young parents didn’t have other children to compare her to before that, assumed her development was on a normal schedule. That is proven very wrong when she goes through the aptitude testing District 3 uses to place children in school. She gravitates towards mechanics, wheels and gears and cogs and moving parts of all types. The testers find it notable that she does not arrange them into recognizable configurations such  as a clock or a wagon, instead she forms new shapes, whimsical enough for a child’s imagination, but still, at the end of it, quite practical. She explains, in her halting childish speech, what her new inventions are for, and the testers meet each other’s eyes very briefly before recommending that Wiress be fast tracked in the engineering academy.

10

At ten years old, Wiress watches in tearful silence as the male tribute from District 3 electrocutes his opponents. Onscreen, he closes his eyes against the screams, but Wiress, curled up on her living room floor, keeps hers open. She feels a responsibility to watch. When the trumpets sound, she hears cheers of victory throughout the District, and that is when she finally allows her eyes to close, releasing a single tear onto her cheek.

When Beetee steps off the train, home from the Capitol at last, Wiress is in the crowd. She hands him a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in a coil of wire. He kisses her hand gallantly, playing it up for the cameras, but actual thanks showing in his eyes. Tucked inside the bouquet is a note that he won’t find until he reaches his new house. It simply says “I’m sorry”. He locks himself in his bedroom and cries, cries for the first time since the Games. It’s the first time he’s felt like he is allowed to.

15

At fifteen years old, Wiress has experienced more pain than most people do in their whole lives. She’s had the terror of being reaped, the bleakness of saying goodbye to her family, the pressure of the Games, the horror of becoming a killer, and the sorrow of seeing distrust and fear in her parent’s eyes when she returns. The only person who understands is Beetee, still practically a child himself.

Beetee tries to shield her from the worst of it all, the publicity, the lack of privacy, mentoring; but she surprises them all, including herself, by proving up to the task. She’s a bit unfocused, her brain constantly a few steps ahead of her body and mouth, but she is aware of everything around her. She’s aware that people see her distraction and confusion as signs of insanity. She’s aware that she will likely be an outcast for the rest of her life.

20

At twenty years old, Wiress feels more alone and adrift than she ever has in her life. Perhaps that’s why she and Beetee start sleeping together. He understands her, she enjoys his company. He’s one of the few people whose intelligence she can respect. They’re using each other, but it’s honest and comfortable and satisfying. Other citizens of District 3 her age are getting married, getting higher level jobs in the factories, but Wiress has a different life full of mentoring and the Capitol and patents for her inventions. When she gets overwhelmed, she feels lucky to have Beetee’s strong chest to bury her face in, Beetee’s masculine smell to breathe in, Beetee’s soft lips to press with her own.

There are certainly moments, during the Games in particular, that Wiress doesn't think she could function without the warm comfort of Beetee's body. He's a gentle and thoughtful lover, a gifted one as well, and she is able to lose herself in his touch. They sit together upon the Reaping Day stage, they hold hands as the gong rings and the Tributes begin to run, they spend their time together at home, celebrating the few holidays the Districts are still allowed to have: Planting, Harvest, New Year. He is all she has of family, now.

 

25

At twenty five years old, she’s woken up by a scuffle in the hallway. She’s never been comfortable in her Capitol suite so she sleeps lightly. Her sleepy question of why Beetee’s warm body isn’t in the bed next to her is answered when she opens the door to find Peacekeepers holding Beetee down, his face smashed roughly into the carpet. Wiress plucks his (thankfully unharmed) glasses off the floor and faces the soldiers down. “What’s going on here?” For once in her entire life, the words flow easily off her tongue, sounding confident and aggressive. Beetee thinks she looks like an avenging angel.

“Back to your room, Miss, this doesn’t concern you.” Her eyes blaze in fury.

“Threatening my mentor partner this close to the Games, with our tributes attempting to sleep just a few feet away? I would say this _fucking concerns me_!” Beetee has never heard her curse before, but then he’s never seen her look so beautiful before either. The Peacekeepers give her a cursory shove and leave, taking with them the machine and schematics that Beetee had earlier refused to recreate. Wiress’ fierceness fades as soon as the door closes, she’s shaking as she helps Beetee off the floor and into her bed. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you very badly?” Her eyes are scared and her hands explore his limbs, checking for fractures.

“I’m fine, Wiress,” he murmurs. “You took care of it all. You were amazing.” He gazes at her face in admiration and gently kisses her forehead. He proves how perfectly fine his body is by rolling on top of her, tenderly showing his gratitude and devotion through their sex. It is still months before either one says anything remotely resembling “I love you”, but this is the night when they each first feel it.

30

At thirty years old, Wiress actually feels _happy_. She spends most of her time doing what she loves, inventing, with the man she loves, Beetee. The pain of the Hunger Games never really goes away, not when she has to mentor a new pair of children every year, not when she has to watch them die; but she has found defense mechanisms, ways to cope with those horrors while staying sane. And yes, despite what the other mentors say, she _is_ still sane. Her life is somewhat stable.

This doesn’t mean she’s insensible of the horrors the Capitol inflicts. She sees the more attractive victors being prostituted, and even holds some of them while they cry afterwards. She sees the tear stained faces of tribute’s families. She knows the pain of her maternal longings going unfulfilled because any child of hers would be a pawn in the wicked game of the Capitol. No, none of that is ignored, but Wiress allows herself to be happy, to enjoy the life she has carved out for herself while she waits. Waits to fix Panem.

35

At thirty five years old, Wiress becomes involved in the revolution. There is finally enough of a network connecting the Districts that they can communicate. Wiress was partially responsible for straw that broke the camel’s back. She worked hard on a device that would warn of poisonous gas seeping from the earth. Her intention was that District 12 could become a safer place. Like every single one of her patents before, the Capitol took the device, and never implemented it. This time, however, Wiress was vocal about its existence. When there was a deadly mining accident not two weeks later, one that could have been prevented by her invention, no one can truly say whether it was the Capitol’s work or not, but they certainly could have prevented it. Wiress’ creation could have saved many lives.

Anger is powerful in a revolution, and she finds herself making a tiny, almost imperceptible nod to several other mentors that year. They steal from their Districts, hoard supplies, smuggle refugees, discuss theories of District 13. Wiress keeps it from Beetee as long as possible, attempting to keep him safe, but he confronts her, jumping to the absolute worst conclusion he can think of to explain her absence and secretiveness. She assures him that it is emphatically _not_ another man, her heart is still wholly his, and Beetee's agile mind is added to the assets of the revolution.

40

At forty years old, Wiress dies. It’s not a pretty death, her throat torn open, spilling her lifeblood into the water. It’s over very quickly, before she feels any pain, but also before she is able to set her eyes on Beetee one last time. That might be a regret. Other than that, however, Wiress died in the aid of her cause. Beetee is able to destroy the force field, air propos. Katniss and Gale and Peeta and Paylor and Finnick and Boggs. These are all people necessary for the next steps, heroes in the war. She was no longer imperative. Her soul could be at rest.


	28. The Beach

Beetee knew Wiress would love District 4. He just knew that she would connect to the sea, but he was surprised at how excited he was to show her; how eager he was to take her to something he knew would make her happy.

Beetee rationalized that Wiress was the first winning tribute he had mentored; this was his first victory tour. She was young and pretty and intelligent, he was certainly enjoying the time they spent on the train, just talking. He didn't have many people in his life that could understand his inventions, and he was soaking up the fact that she not only understood, but was _interested_. Her talent was also named as inventing, and he foresaw a happy partnership in their future.

So he told himself that there was absolutely _nothing_ romantic about wanting to show Wiress the ocean, about wanting to hold her hand on the beach. She liked having her hand held; she was comforted by the touch. It didn't matter that Beetee got nearly as much out of it. There was _nothing_ romantic about how his heart jumped when she gasped at the sight, _nothing_ tender about the look of wonder she gave him. It was just regular platonic friendliness that made him happy when she dropped his hand to race to the waves, dipping her toes in the lapping water. He laughed with joy because it was nice to be alive, _not_ because it was nice to be alive and with her.

She crouched down to run the wet sand through her fingers, laughing as the waves threatened to knock her over. The ocean made for a good photo shoot, most stylists planned on needing to change after the beach ruined one outfit. Beetee smiled as she stood back up and ran along the beach, chasing some birds that landed on the shore. Beetee took this opportunity to remove his shoes and enjoy the water. The cameras were trained on Wiress' slim form, leaving Beetee to walk along the shoreline by himself. It was so peaceful and lovely. It was easy to forget any troubles or worries. He had his hands in his pant pockets and his face in the sun. The breeze brought the sound of her laughter to him, completing the perfect moment. Wiress was heading back towards him now; she called his name as she ran.

"This is amazing, Beetee!" Her grin was infectious, he found himself unable to stop smiling as well. "It's as if the water is _alive_!" She gripped his arm. Beetee forced himself to not shiver at her touch. Her big eyes focused on his face, asking him to join her in her happiness.

"How about the sand?" He couldn't help but want to hear more of her excited.

"It's so strange! Almost…bouncy?" She giggled and pulled on his arm. "Come more into the water, I want to splash you."

He laughed. "Wire, I don't think you're supposed to tell me."

"Then come into the water so I can _not_ splash you," Wiress grinned. He let her pull him into the waves and begin a splash fight. It was worth getting soaking wet in order to spend time with her, have her make him laugh and enjoy himself. She even threw her small body into him, knocking them both over into the water. Beetee teased her back by pulling her under a few times, and if he lost his breath a little bit while holding her, well, that was just because of the exertion. He didn't even mind that the cameras caught some of their moments, limbs tangled while they playfully pushed each other, acting like children and laughing like fools.

They spent ages lying on the beach, drying off, not minding that their backs would be covered in sand when they stood. They talked about nothing, just nonsense and jokes. Beetee had always been serious, even as a child, and he reveled in this new silly side of himself Wiress brought out. She combed her fingers through her now-tangled hair, and Beetee helped, because he would help any friend, not because he had any particular desire to sink his fingers into her curls. The shaking of his hands was probably from the slight chill of the afternoon.

It wasn't until they began the walk back to the District 4 Justice Building, hand in hand, gazing at the sun setting over the water, that he was forced to admit it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life like this. With her. He had fallen head over heels in love with Wiress. And, from the tight grip on his hand and the shine in her bright eyes, it was entirely possible that she felt the same.


	29. Being Alive

"Unbeing dead isn't being alive." - e e cummings

 

It was a custom for the living victors of a district to have a "welcome home" get together for anyone joining their ranks. Beetee hadn't done it before since he was the youngest, but now he was in someone's overheated living room, holding a glass of wine and hovering over a cheese tray, without any clue of what to say to anyone. The victor, Wiress, got overwhelmed in large groups, preferring to talk to people in groups of one or two. Beetee wondered why so many people were invited if they knew she hated crowds. In fact, she was headed towards him and the table of food with a distinct look of 'retreat' on her face. She stood near, angled so that he was blocking her from being seen by everyone in the other room. She shut her eyes. "I just need a moment…"

"To breathe?" Beetee suggested. She nodded.

"Exactly." She smiled up at him. "You're Beetee?"

"Yes." He pushed his glasses up from where they were slipping on his nose. The stood in peaceful silence for a while, punctuated by the deep breaths Wiress took to calm herself.

"The party was supposed to be outside." Beetee looked up at her words. "That's why there are so many people. I could have handled it outside. This is just the rain plan." Beetee nodded. It explained a lot.

"It's a shame about the rain. We needed it, though. Hopefully things will cool down now." He hated relying on the weather for small talk, but Wiress was rather pretty, and he found that he wanted to keep her here and protect her from the crowd a little bit longer.

Wiress' eyes stared at nothing, absorbed in her thoughts. "Since you won…do you feel like you have a _responsibility_? As though you fought so hard to survive that now you really have to _live_."

Beetee put down his wineglass. "I never thought of it that way, no." He tilted his head, thinking. "I feel more like I earned the right to do whatever I want. My life should rightfully be mine."

She shook her head, trying to find the correct words she meant to say. "When I was in the arena…I felt each breath because it might be the last one. I catalogued everything I did." She met his eyes, wide with her attempt to communicate properly. "Is _this_ one my last cough? The last sip of water I'll ever have? What was the last thing I said out loud, are those my last words?"

"I guess I just wake up every morning and go about my day. Try not to think about it." Wiress looked a bit annoyed. "You know, pick something to look forward to and live through every day."

"That's not being _alive_!" She said, exasperated with him. "That's…that's just not being _dead_. Alive is different." Beetee just looked at the girl quizzically. He had _just_ met her, and she was scolding him on philosophy? He didn't know her except from watching her Games, and the few things her mentor, Elyse, had told him. He didn't know how to react to this. She waited for a response, huffing impatiently. Eventually, she just shook her head and took him by the wrist. "We're going out in the rain."

"But-"

"No. No excuses. You won't get a cold. It's summer, and anyway that's not how germs work. You need to learn how to just _feel_." He knew a fight he was losing when he saw it, so he obediently followed the teen outside. Once through the door, she dropped his hand and raised her face to the sky. Beetee did the same and was surprised at how lovely the cool night rain felt falling through the hot air. He snuck a peek over at Wiress. Her eyes were closed, and the look of pleasure on her face transformed her into something even more beautiful. "When you find something wonderful, like this," Wiress explained without opening her eyes, "You have to recognize the value." Beetee kept his eyes on her smiling face, a twin smile creeping up the corners of his mouth. "Beauty is strange, sometimes it hits you in the face, but most of the time, you have to look for it. You have to search. And you learn to get better at seeing it."

Beetee stepped slightly closer to her. "Missed opportunities don't always come again."

She nodded, wiping some of the rain from her face. "Exactly. You may be able to stand in the rain again, but it wouldn't be this rain." She smiled at him for understanding.

And Beetee _did_ understand. Not being dead just meant doing what you had to do, doing what was expected of you, taking the easy path. Being _alive_ consisted of the opportunities you took, going after the things you want, experiencing every moment. It consisted of seeing a lovely woman outside in the rain, the moonlight making her pale skin glow, wet hair pushed away from her face. It consisted of the warm feeling in the pit of his belly that flared up when she smiled at him. It consisted of knowing that _this_ was the moment and if he didn't grab it, he wasn't sure it would ever come around again.

He reached forward to her, took her hand. She looked startled, but not scared. From there, it was easy for him to lean down, meet her lips with his. It was just as she had said; it could be so nice to shut off your thoughts for a minute and just _feel_. Her soft lips, the insistent pressure, her hands sliding around his neck, her body pressed to his, wet clothes making it easy to feel her small breasts, her lean waist. When the kiss ended, they were both smiling. "See?" She laughed. Beetee nodded. He _did_ see.


	30. Desperate

Beetee’s eyes glint in the darkness as he leans over the figure in the bed. Her arms are thin but strong. He loses himself in them, night after night. Her breath catches when he kisses her throat, runs his tongue along her collarbone. He wants her to shudder and moan and arch her back into his touch. His hands roam her body, finding every tender little spot that pleases her. They are desperately touching in the night. She’s desperate to feel good, to feel close to him, to feel the happiness that only comes in your lover’s arms moments after orgasm. He’s desperate so that his actions will hide his face, his thoughts. He is desperate because he doesn’t love her.

He doesn’t love her at all.

Instead, he loves a girl from District 3, a girl with a broken mind who waits for him, even now, in their Capitol suite. He loves a fragile girl tormented by memories and unable to handle strong emotions. He loves a girl that might not even be _capable_ of loving him back, even if she didn’t go catatonic at the first kiss. He loves a girl he will protect against anything, including his own feelings. He loves Wiress with his whole heart, not the Capitol woman he is sent to. He loves Wiress and that is why he is so desperate.


	31. Where

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Where"

Waking up to a too-bright room, noise everywhere making my head pound. I’m terrified and confused, not sure what is real. I won, didn’t I? I _won?_ Or am I dead? I can’t imagine I could be in this much pain if I were dead, so I must be alive, I just don’t know what happened or where I am and my brain wants to panic, it truly, truly does. I’ve been fighting for my life long enough that my instinct is to fight, to run, to hide. I’m out in the open in a bright room and I can’t handle it.

I turn, ready to pull all of the frightening wires out of my arm, ready to bolt to safety, when I see the form bundled into the small chair against the wall. It’s my mentor, Beetee. He’s asleep and the chair is too small, so half of him is propped up between the chair and the wall. It’s a comical sight, but also one that forces my brain to focus, if _he_ is here, I must be safe. Beetee equals safety. Truthfully, there’s also the fact that no victor would be fool enough to sleep in an open and precarious spot if there were danger. Beetee is much too intelligent for that.

I try to call his name, but it comes out as a groan instead. No matter, his eyelids flutter open anyway. His eyes are blank for a moment, then he remembers where he is and realizes what woke him. He is at my side in a second, holding my hand and brushing my hair away from my face. “Wiress,” he says softly. He’s grinning. “You’re awake. Thank goodness.”

“Was I out long?” I have no idea what day it is.

He shrugs. “It felt like forever, to me.” Nurses come into the room, cutting off any further discussion. They bustle around me and ask me questions and poke and prod. At least they give me pain medication, now that I’m awake. I’m not left alone with Beetee again until they’re  completely satisfied, and my aching body is left with only a dull throb. My mind is pleasantly loopy, too.

“Beetee.” I reach out for him, but miss his hand. He chuckles softly and encases my hand in both of his. “How old are you?” I ask nonsensically. It’s probably rude to ask. I had wondered.

“Twenty six,” he tells me. I laugh and I can’t stop laughing. “What in the world did they give you? Morphling?” I wipe my eyes and calm down slightly. I can’t focus on his face but suddenly I really want to.

“Twenty six isn’t too old for me!” Beetee gives me an odd look. “Right?”

“I’m just your mentor, Wire. You’re drugged up to high heaven and back.”

“But I like you! I _like_ like you.” I smother a giggle with my free hand. He hasn’t let go of my left. Nursery rhymes get caught in my head, things children chant in schoolyards. “Wiress sitting in a tree…K-I-L-L-I-N-G. Is that right?”

Beetee frowns down at me. “No. The tease is about kissing.” His thumb strokes the back of my hand. He looks worried and I wonder if I did something wrong.

“But that’s what I did, right? I did lots of _killing_. No kissing.” I scrunch my eyes shut so I don’t see his worried face. I can’t feel parts of my body and my brain is fading away. Is this the medicine? Or me? I don’t like it. “K-I-L-”  Beetee cuts me off.

“I killed too, Wiress. Victors have to.” One of his hands releases mine in order to gently touch my cheek. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. No more killing.”

“Or kissing.” I’m not sure why my mind keeps going back to kissing.

“There might be kissing.” Beetee sounds sad again. “But they won’t make you kill anymore.”

I open my eyes back up. “Good.” I’m not aware of closing my eyes again or of falling asleep, but the next thing I know, it’s several hours later, at least, and the pain is creeping back up my legs. Beetee is sitting next to me, left hand holding mine, right hand writing in a small notebook.

“Welcome back,” he says, noticing me staring at him.

“…hurts.” I manage.

He nods. “You had a pretty delirious reaction to the morphling. They’re trying to give you as little as possible.” I grimace. “I know, I know, but we aren’t going to run the risk of getting you addicted.”  I sigh and settle back into the pillows. I’d better get used to the pain. My time in the arena was a pretty good start.

As I get as comfortable as I can manage, I remember something with a jolt, and pull my hand away from Beetee. “Oh sparks, I hit on you, didn’t I?” He laughs gently at my dismayed face.

“Maybe. There _might_ have been some discussion of kissing.” I cover my eyes, too embarrassed to look at him. I’m eighteen years old, not an idiot thirteen year old with no control over herself. Even if I _do_ have a bit of a crush on him, acting like a child is not a good way to convince him that we could have something, someday. He laughs again. It’s not unkind laughter, it’s more like we have a little joke together. “Wiress. Wire.” I look up, embarrassment still wrinkling my nose. When our eyes meet, he leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “There.” He smiles at me. “A kiss.” His eyes are twinkling, and his touch is warm where he strokes my upper arm. “Now you can get better happily,” he teases.

Beetee sits back down, still touching me and still smiling. I am still in pain, and I still haven’t processed almost _anything_ about being a victor except the knowledge that this man will stay by my side throughout all of it. And there’s no way this will stop at one kiss if he insists upon being so adorable all the time.


	32. Confused

My brain has been fading in and out ever since Beetee followed me into my room to talk. I see his lips moving but all I can hear is my blood pounding in my ears. He is saying pretty things but I can’t add them together, I don’t know how to respond, I don’t know if I’m supposed to respond but I keep staring at his lips, at the way  they move and form words and my fingers automatically go to touch my own lips.

 “I want to _be_ with you, Wiress.” I don’t understand what he means, but it makes my head spin and I don’t want to stand up anymore. I sit on the very edge of the bed and try to detangle my thoughts. He is looking at me patiently, waiting for me to come to some conclusion, to have a reaction other than confusion.

“I…I don’t understand,” I frown. I hate how weak I sound, how unsure. “You…love me?” He gives the quirked up smile I have come to know so well. I could love him so easily. If I was willing to open myself up, be vulnerable, he’s the first person I would let in. I would give him my whole self. But I can’t. “I’m not…I’m not supposed to be loved.” I stand back up, trying to feel strong, steady.

Beetee raises his eyebrows. “Oops, then.” He steps close to me, deliberately in my personal space. “Wiress. Don’t think about all that other stuff. Ignore that. Just tell me how you feel. Do you have feelings for me?” He holds my shoulders, looking into my eyes, so I stay focused. I just can’t speak. My throat has closed up. It would be so _so_ easy to let myself love him. His eyes are so completely open and sincere; I don’t think I’m capable of that. I’ve hidden so much of myself away for protection. I’ve been silent too long, I can tell that. Beetee drops his arms and steps away from me. He’s disappointed. Not that I haven’t reciprocated, but disappointed in _me._ “You could at least give me the comfort of you telling me you love me, even though you don’t want to be with me.” He pushes his glasses up on his nose, a sign of frustration and nerves. “I know perfectly well that you do.” I stare at him. How can he know if I don’t?

“I’m confused, Beetee.” That’s the only perfectly true sentence I can think of.

I don’t know what is turning things around in my heart. Maybe it’s that I can tell he is frustrated and angry, both at the situation _and_ at me, but he is still calmly speaking to me, trying to talk me through my thoughts and emotions. He’s not giving up on me if there’s even the slightest chance. And I know that if the answer ended up being ‘no’, I still wouldn’t lose him. We aren’t discussing whether or not we will be together, that’s immutable. We’re only deciding _how_ we will be together. “So confused,” I whisper. My head hurts because figuring out what I want is more complicated than I thought it would be, but I am suddenly realizing that I’m not confused about loving him. I do love him. I _want_ him, in fact. My body wants to be physically vulnerable with him. That’s an eye opener. “I’m trying, Beetee. I want to try.” My voice is quiet and scared, but he stops moving as abruptly as if I had shouted.

“Try what? To tell me?” I shake my head. There’s fuzz on the edge of my thoughts, trying to creep in and distract me. Keep me from making sense.

“No…try to be…try us, I guess?” I’m wringing my hands, still not quite sure what makes sense or not. Beetee lifts my chin so I look at him. He searches my eyes for my feelings. Sometimes he knows what my chaotic thoughts mean before I do. “I want…I want to be with you.” I look into his eyes, hoping he will see the nuances of what I mean. It’s so hard to talk. “We’re already everything to each other, aren’t we? I want to keep it and touch you, too.” Beetee covers his eyes with his hand and laughs.

“I guess that’s sort of true. We have the emotional intimacy…” He wipes his glasses on his shirt, still wryly amused. I touch him gently, between his chest and his shoulder. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I do want to touch him, very much.

“You would never, ever, hurt me. I know that. I’m much more afraid of me hurting you, getting you hurt.” I run my hand down his chest, now both hands settle at his waist and I pull myself nearer. I see the question in his eyes, and I nod quickly to indicate that he can touch me. He wraps his arms around me, engulfing me and making me feel so safe.

“You won’t hurt me, Wiress. Not by being with me.” He is enough taller than me to rest his head on mine. “You could only hurt me by keeping me away.” He loves me. This knowledge is slowly leaking into me, it didn’t make any sense at first but now I am feeling warm, feeling at home. I’m starting to be able to comprehend what that means, and it is the good kind of frightening. The kind of frightening that is the unknown, but exciting. An adventure. My thoughts are sweet, about love, but my body doesn’t have patience for that, my body is reminding me that we are pressed _so_ close together, but somehow still not close enough. It’s an odd feeling. Being near Beetee always made me feel more complete. Now, I know there’s something missing, something I need from him and it is making me feel warm between my legs. I slip out of Beetee’s arms so I can see his face. He’s so handsome. I get on my tippy toes to kiss him, to touch his face, his hair.

“I want to have sex with you,” I whisper into our kiss. His body jerks a little bit, surprised.

“Yes. Okay, yes,” he says. His eyes are wide and excited, it makes me laugh to see him so eager. I think I’m also laughing because I’m so incredibly happy right now. I think my brain has finally caught up, has worked through my thoughts. It knows how I feel, for certain now. I know I’m in love, in love with a man who loves me.


	33. Bloom

Beetee couldn't stop staring at his partner's interview outfit. She looked up, feeling his eyes on her. "What?"

"You just look…amazing," Beetee answered. He kept his gaze on her face even as she looked down in embarrassment.

"It's a bit silly, no one cares about the looks of a middle aged inventor when…" Beetee knew how she wanted to finish the sentence. She was referring to the younger tributes who were all relatively good looking. Still, he thought she was the most beautiful woman in all of Panem; particularly when he made that blush bloom in her cheeks.


	34. Inspiration

Inspiration seems to hit Wiress at the oddest times, but it comes easiest and clearest after _she_ does.

Sometimes, she pulls a piece of paper onto the bed and begins to sketch out a design, almost ignoring the activity that came moments before. Beetee has to admire her focus, after all, she has so little of it most times, and he has a glow of pride in his belly that he's had a hand in it this time. He sits back against the headboard and watches her. She's sprawled on her stomach, hard at work, pencil and scrap paper with some book as a hard surface. Not planned at all. His eyes trace the line of her graceful spine, the indentations of her ribs that haven't gone away even with the hardy victor diets they can afford, the muscles at her shoulder blades moving beneath her skin. A few minutes ago, those same muscles had been spasming under his ministrations; the sheen of sweat on her neck can attest to that. He knows better than to bother Wiress while she's at work so he curbs his lustful thoughts and just places his palm on the small of her back. She arches into it just the slightest bit. Her knees are bent, legs cocked in the air, and she leans her right leg into his arm. A small touch to show that she's still very aware of him, that her post-orgasm flush hasn't subsided, that her nerve endings are still very much awake and her mind is still full of thoughts of him and his body and his touch.

"There!" she practically shouts, turning her head to beam at him. "I had that in my head all day, but I couldn't…" She bites her lip while she finds the words. "…shake it loose." She folds the paper and puts it carefully on her nightstand before turning back to Beetee, running her fingertips gently up and down his arm.

"I'm glad, Wire." Beetee returns her smile and pulls her to him. "Now we can get back to what we were doing." Wiress rolls her eyes and her bright laughter rings out even as she pushes him down to the bed and begins to kiss his neck.


	35. Kerchief

Beetee is distracted for a moment as she ties a kerchief in her hair. The simple sight of her elegant fingers tucking a dark curl behind the fabric completely undoes him, and he blurts it out. "I love you." It's not elegant or well thought out or any of the things he planned his declaration to be; if it ever actually happened.

Wiress turns her head, a smile quirking up one side of her mouth. "You do?" He nods, speechless, fear grabbing his throat, anxiety pressing on his chest. "I'm quite fond of you." Her voice is matter of fact and she tilts her head to think. "Yes…yes, I could fall in love with you quite easily." Beetee's breath rushes out of his lungs, the nerves releasing him in one quick moment. Wiress laughs at his visible relief, then reaches for him. "Isn't it traditional to have a show of affection at this point?"

Beetee is still baffled at the thought that she might return some feelings for him, he completely misses her words. He stares at her hand in front of him as though it is something alien. She raises her eyebrows and lowers the hand to her hip. "I can see that I'll have to do this myself." Then she leans in and kisses him. It's the loveliest kiss he's ever had.


	36. Confidence

Amp hadn't been able to bring home a tribute at all in the twenty years he'd been mentoring. His mentor partner was getting old, and soon he'd be stuck alone with this responsibility. It was enough to make a person wish he'd died back in that arena. He didn't put much hope in the two tributes this year, either. He was in charge of mentoring the boy, a scrawny nerdy looking thing with glasses and an awkward way of fidgeting when you looked at him slightly too long.

"I know I don't look like much," the boy said. His voice was surprisingly sure for a boy just handed a death sentence. "But I'm smart. I can win this. I can win and give them a show like they've never seen before. Just get me sponsors, get me the supplies." He outlined his plan, the meticulously thought out idea that he'd had in mind even before his first reaping ceremony. He would prove that brains could beat brawn. Beetee was confident he could win.

-

Beetee frowned at the lone figure staring out the window at the Capitol skyline. He wasn't technically the girl's mentor, Amp was, but what did it matter, their tributes were training together anyway. "You have a long day of training tomorrow, you should be asleep." He could see the girl's reflection in the window, could see her eyes flick up when he spoke, but otherwise she didn't appear to have heard him. He stepped to lightly touch her arm. "Really. You'll need it," he said gently.

"I don't, actually." Her voice was strong and sure. "I already know how I'll win." Beetee pulled her shoulder gently so she would face him as she spoke. "I'll pay attention, get some hints about the arena maybe…" Her eyes unfocused as she got lost in her own thoughts. "…but I have my strategy already." Her words reminded Beetee of himself, his own confidence before the Games, so he led her to the table and let Wiress explain her plans, sketch out her pulleys and spikes that would kill while she was at a safe distance.

-

Amp had never seen Beetee look so happy or so proud. He was more excited over Wiress' victory than he had been over his own. The older man didn't mind letting Beetee take the reigns over victory preparations, in fact, Beetee had been downright eager to do most of the work. Amp was content to sit back and relax, be happy that District 3 was going to get Parcel Day again, be happy that there would now be another mentor to share the work, be happy that Beetee had rediscovered his spirit. He smiled as Wiress clung to Beetee's arm, excitedly (albeit scatteredly) talking about an idea she had. Also, it would be somewhat fun to watch and see when those two realized their attraction was mutual.


	37. The Ties of Family

Wiress held Tern in her arms and danced around the kitchen. The baby giggled and clapped his hands. Beetee tried not to make any noise. He just wanted to watch them for a little bit without Wiress knowing he was there. He felt the familiar tug at his heart. Wiress would have been such a wonderful mother. In a perfect world, they would have had several children. A world where they weren’t victors whose children were sure to be reaped. Now they were safe, but a bit too old. Something of a tragedy, really. Maybe that’s _why_ Wiress insisted on moving with Annie to help with her child.

Wiress spun, catching sight of Beetee leaning in the doorway. “Uncle Beetee is awake!” she crooned to Tern. His sweet chubby face lit up. He loved all the adults that took care of him, but perhaps because he was male, Beetee was the particular favorite.

“Bee bee bee,” Tern chanted.

“Come here, little guy.” Beetee held out his arms. Tern snuggled into his neck for a hug. Such a sweet, loving baby. Wiress pressed her lips against Beetee’s cheek.

“Good morning, love.” She winked at him as she danced back across the kitchen to check on breakfast. Tern commenced babbling at Beetee, speaking in the baby language that only Tern could understand. A bit like Wiress, sometimes, Beetee thought with a smile. He followed Wiress across the kitchen.

“Annie still asleep?”

“Yes, she was up late with _that_ one.” She pointed at Tern with a smile. “Grumpy little Gus.” She tickled his belly, making him wiggle and laugh. “Cranky silly babe, keeping mommy up all night.” She kissed his forehead, smoothing back his fine baby hair.

Beetee sniffed the air. “Are you making pancakes?”

Wiress turned, beaming. “Yes I am!” She enjoyed cooking, feeding people.

Beetee raised his eyebrows, “You’re a miracle worker, Wire. Pancakes _while_ watching Tern.” Wiress laughed.

“He helped quite a bit. I don’t know how I would have gotten that much flour on the floor without him.” Wiress dabbed a bit of flour onto her nose, making Beetee laugh. Soon, the table was full of lovely pancakes, and Tern was strapped into his high chair, trying to get maple syrup in his hair. Wiress let him make a mess; he wasn’t doing anything a bath couldn’t fix. She did attempt to get him to eat a little bit, though. Beetee was left trying to make sure _she_ ate some.

“You make a beautiful aunt, Wiress.” He smiled across the table at her.

“an wi, an wi!” Tern joined in.

Wiress actually blushed a little. Beetee thought it was the sweetest thing he’d seen in a long while. “I love kids, you know that.” Beetee took her hand. He knew. Their eyes met for a moment, acknowledging the sad truth. It was only a moment, and then they were back to being happy, being glad to be alive and have a family and each other. “There’s pancake batter…” Wiress’ words drifted off as she got lost in her own thoughts.

“I’ll make fresh ones for Annie when she wakes up.” Beetee knew what she wanted to say, he always seemed to know what she meant. She smiled gratefully.

“I’ll give Tern his bath.” She kissed the top of Beetee’s head as she stood, then gave a twin kiss to Tern. “How did you even get syrup on the top of your head?” She laughed as she lifted the baby into her arms. “This will be an ordeal, I can tell.”

Beetee watched them walk down the hallway and disappear into the bathroom. He let out a deep sigh of contentment as he gathered the dirty dishes together. Every plan he’d had for his life went away with his reaping. The past forty or so years had been mostly fear and pain and uncertainty. This was truly the first time that he felt _free_. Wiress’ soft singing voice filtered past him, occasionally drowned out by the sound of the water filling the tub. He felt immense peace.


	38. Voyeur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is slightly smutty, so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip :)

 

Haymitch hiked up his pants as he stumbled out of the mentor control room. Damn liquor always made him have to piss. He ignored the judgmental stares he got from some of the other mentors as he left. Hypocrites. They’d all done bad things, seen bad things. Same as him. He considered it a victory that he made it to the bathroom and he didn’t piss on his shoes. He couldn’t be THAT drunk, then. As he turned the corner, he stopped suddenly at the sight now in front of him. Beetee, the nerd from District 3, was kissing the living hell out of his partner. He had her up against the wall, one hand under a bent knee, the other bracing them up. Her hands buried in his dark hair, her raised foot hooked behind his leg, pulling him closer.

Haymitch couldn’t look away. His brain told him to turn around, leave without making a sound, but his body refused to obey. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Beetee’s hands disappeared beneath his partner’s skirt, moving with enough skill that she let out breathy pants and moans. Wiress. That was her name. Haymitch had always been good with names. She was pretty enough, too. Worth learning her name.

“Please,” she murmured, earning her a soft, fond laugh.

Beetee replied to her, his deeper voice not traveling far enough for Haymitch to hear. She nodded, though, eager and excited. As she brushed her hair away from her face with her fingers, Haymitch was sure that she would glance his way. Instead, she kept her face angled towards Beetee. Haymitch backed away slowly, hiding his body behind the corner of the wall, still peeking out and unable to stop watching the lovers. Lovers. Maybe that was why he was entranced. He had a good fuck every now and then, but hadn’t had an actual _lover_ in…years. And even then, he’d been young and not very patient or focused or skilled. It wasn’t like this, Beetee gazing lovingly at this woman as she carefully undid his trousers.

Haymitch wondered, idly, if their tributes were out of the Games. His had died in the bloodbath and he began drinking again immediately after. He never paid much attention to who was left. His stream of thought paused as clothing shifted and he caught a good look at Wiress’ bare breasts. His brain stopped whirring long enough to appreciate the view but started right back up again when he saw the couple’s hands. Their fingers were interlocked, clinging to each other with a fierceness not shown in any of their other actions. He nodded and dragged a hand through his hair. Their tributes were definitely dead. They were turning to sex as surely and easily as Haymitch turned to the white liquor. Hell, if he had a willing partner like that, he’d probably do the same. Beetee was thrusting now, sure and deep, Wiress making soft happy sounds; but Haymitch no longer felt excited watching the pair. He just felt empty. Their way of relieving the pain seemed much healthier than his.

He slunk back down the corridor, away from them and back towards his bottle.


	39. Just Ask

 

“Really? You have a crush on Beetee?”

“Shhh!” Wiress hissed. “You promised this was a secret!” She looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention.

“So why don’t you ask him out?” Ampere rolled her eyes at her best friend.

Wiress’ face was terrified. “I can’t ask him out!” She wrung her hands. “He’s….he’s out of my league. So handsome, and smart, and funny. He’d never say yes. He barely knows who I am.” Ampere raised her eyebrows. Beetee was pretty universally liked, he was fun to be around and kind and a good friend, but girls didn’t tend to go for him. He certainly didn’t get asked out often. And he certainly knew who Wiress was. They worked on machines together in the shop, they had real conversations and everything.

“Just ask him,” Ampere told her dark haired friend. “Ask him to the reaping night party. Everyone has a date for that.” It was a tradition, another year safe, those not chosen danced and drank and often snuck away into the darkness with their date. District 3’s teens had a collective sigh of relief. Except for two of them, on a train to the Capitol. “Just…look, how long have you liked him?”

Wiress stared at the ground and mumbled something. “What was that?” Ampere demanded. Wiress glared.

“Forever. Something like five years.”

“What?!” She grabbed Wiress by the shoulders. “You dummy! I love you, but you are a dummy. Ask him out! Now, or we aren’t friends anymore!” Wiress smiled a little bit at the last part, trying to gather courage. “Do it now, while your hair looks nice,” Ampere added.

Beetee was sitting on the concrete, leaning against the wall. He was reading, clearly waiting for something or someone. At least she caught him alone, Wiress thought. He registered her presence before she was very nearby, and put his book down, smiling. “Hey, Wiress.” She smiled back.

“Hi.” His face was so open and friendly; she just looked at him and felt warm. She slid down the wall to sit next to him. “How are you?”

“Good, ready for vacation. You?” She just nodded. Beetee was used to her enough that she didn’t need to force the words. She always had a little trouble speaking. He just looked at her patiently, gave her space to find the right words.

“Are you…reaping night?” She knew that wasn’t a complete sentence, but she hoped he understood.

“The party?” She nodded. “I don’t usually go. It’s, um, awkward, I guess? By yourself.” He chuckled self deprecatingly. She looked at him with big eyes.

“With me?”  

“Go with you?” Beetee asked, “To the party?” He looked surprised, as though perhaps Wiress had said the wrong thing by mistake. Wiress nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. His mouth slowly formed a grin as he saw how nervous she was. It was really quite cute. “I…would very much…like that,” he said, hesitantly. He was nervous too, now. He didn’t know how to accept a date. It really had never happened this way for him. He touched her wrist gently, trying to get her to look at him. She did, tentatively. His smile made her look away again, but she smiled too, shyly.

“Good. It’s a plan.”

“That means you can’t get reaped, you have to make our date,” he said. “That’s the superstition. You won’t get reaped because you have plans.” She hadn’t heard that. His fingertips lightly brushed her hand. She turned her palm toward him, a clear invitation. His hand slid into hers, their hands now clasped together, and Wiress blushed.

Except that he _was_ reaped. His name was called and there was only a split second of numbness and shock before his brain whirred into action. He was already crazy about Wiress. They had spent a lot of time together in the week since she had asked him out. They’d spoken at school and spent free time together over machines and once he had haltingly kissed her before squeezing her hand and watching her enter her front door. Still, there was a chance that no one would mention her to the camera crews; he didn’t want her to be wrapped up in the family interviews and public spectacle of his death. Not to mention the fact that he remembered plenty of tributes who were sweethearts or siblings or close friends of other, failed tributes. The Capitol announcers always made sympathetic sounds, but they ate that emotional stuff up. He wanted Wiress as far out of the line of fire as possible.

When Wiress was ushered into the small room to say goodbye, she immediately threw herself into his arms, kissing him on the mouth. He went with it completely, giving in to the feeling of their lips moving against each other. It was only when she broke away that he remembered he had planned to keep her at a distance. “Don’t mourn, Wiress, don’t mourn for me.” He held her shoulders so she would stay focused on his words. “Just…” His voice faltered. “I’m so sorry.”

Wiress smiled slightly and covered his hands with hers. “No, Bee. You’ve _got_ this. You can win.” She looked more confident than hopeful. So sure of what she was saying. “There won’t be anyone smarter. You’ll survive.” There were sounds in the hallway indicating that their time was nearly up, and Wiress pulled him into another kiss while she still could. “Incentive…make it home to me.” Even as she left the room, she turned her face back so he could see her dry eyes and shy smile. He had no way of knowing that, while he was on the train to the Capitol that night, Wiress was weeping into her pillow at home. She did believe in him, truly, but she also knew it wasn’t all skill and merit. She was terrified for him.

 

Wiress camped out in front of her television to catch every glimpse of Beetee possible. Ampere was sworn to secrecy and neither family knew they were more than just friends, so she had to keep her interest as hidden as possible.  Beetee’s quick whisper for her to stay safe and anonymous rang in her ears, and she attempted to appear detached in public, but at home, she watched every single moment of every event. She admired his form at the Tribute Parade, a strong but approachable smile on his face. She chewed her lip at his score of "5” after the training sessions. She applauded after his interview, even alone in her living room. Wiress’ parents were home for the beginning of the actual Games, no one was allowed to be working, they were forced to watch. Without any words, each parent took one of her hands and gripped her tightly as the gong sounded. The action, as always, was chaotic for the first hour or so. It was difficult to tell who was still alive, so when the cameras found Beetee, apparently unharmed and picking his way through the dense marshland, Wiress allowed herself one moment of weakness and burst  into tears on her mother’s shoulder.

The days went on, and Wiress caught fitful hours of sleep on her couch, easily roused by the sound of a cannon. She believed in Beetee, she knew he could find a way to win, but there was still a pack of careers out there picking off the others one by one, and Beetee hadn’t found much food in the arena. She watched, heart in her throat, as he tussled with the girl from District 7, her strong hands tightening around his throat as he scrambled to get a foothold on the soft ground. He fell, using his last ounce of strength to keep her momentum going, push her past him and into the dangerous water, full of mutts and acids and dangerous plants. He wasn’t even able to look up when the cannon sounded, to see what actually got her. Wiress breathed deep in relief and faced two unpleasant realities. Beetee was now in the final eight, and, he would not be able to survive another confrontation. The Capitol announcers discussed the odds for the final Tributes, mentioning the sponsorship chances for the career tributes, but they seemed to have written off Beetee. Wiress pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes and focused as hard as she could as she formulated a plan. A plan to save her Beetee.

Wiress was in the center square at first light. She watched the Capitol camera crew unpack their equipment, squinting and coughing in the ashy air. They probably had expected to be in District 7 right now, not 3. District 3 rarely made it this far in the Games. Wiress straightened her shoulders and approached the most garishly dressed person on the team. “Hello.”

“Oh, _hello_ dear! Aren’t you sweet? Are you one of your tribute’s little friends?” The woman’s shrill voice grated on Wiress’ nerves almost as much as the fact that she didn’t seem to know Beetee’s name.

“Yes, I’m Beetee’s girlfriend.” She kept her words short and simple. Sentences she knew she would be able to finish. The woman, Julietta, was in charge of the interviews, and she seemed ecstatic at having a romance to play up. She oozed sympathy as Wiress made an impassioned plea for sponsors, wiped away a tear when Wiress described Beetee’s intelligence and skill, and pulled Wiress in for a hug after the young woman began to cry and speak directly to the camera. “Beetee, come home. I haven’t had the chance yet to tell you I love you.”

This may have been planned, Wiress giving exactly the kind of show the Capitol loved, but she was still terrified at how close to the surface those tears had been. As the camera crew moved on to Beetee’s house and greeted his family, Wiress went over her story in her head. If they said anything about her, she would say it had been a secret relationship, try to turn it even more romantic. Somewhat fortunately, Beetee’s parents were too distraught to question anything and Wiress didn’t need to speak at all as she held Beetee’s weeping sister. The camera feeds went out almost live, so the crew was still there as she watched her own thin face on the television screens.

The announcers made all the hoped for comments, the power of young love and how romantic it would be if Beetee won and Wiress was there to greet him on the stage. Between clips of the other seven interviews, they mentioned sponsorships being called in, discussed parallels between Beetee’s story and a recent plot on one of the most popular Capitol soap operas. Wiress hadn’t even known about that. The lead actress from the show made an appearance to say that she was entranced with the young lovers and was making a sizable donation herself. Cameras zoomed in on Wiress’ pale face, capturing her involuntary sob as she watched. The crew stayed longer than they normally would have, waiting to film the reactions when a heavy silver parachute landed at Beetee’s feet, full of wires and batteries and even a protein bar to give him the energy needed to create something. Within moments, the screen cut away to District 3, a close up of the tears trickling down Wiress’ cheeks as her lips formed the words “thank you”.


	40. Visit

She turns up out of the blue one morning, knocking on his door as he drinks coffee. His body reacts first, opening the door wide and ushering her in before his brain even registers. Wiress looks lost and alone and afraid. He knows almost nothing about her aside from the fact that he watched her Games. He has no idea why she’s there, why, if she needed someone, she came to him and not her Games mentor, Clara. Wiress doesn’t really say anything, just a vague “May I?” and then she’s in his kitchen, at his table, as though she belongs there.

Beetee keeps to himself, and part of that is due to how much Clara _fusses_ , so perhaps Wiress wants to be left alone without being alone, so he just pours her a cup of coffee and quietly sits across the table from her. When he finishes his coffee, he goes through the kitchen into the workshop, leaving the adjoining door open. She follows, not much later, sitting nearby, watching him work. She’s not at all in the way, in fact, once or twice she hands him the tool he needs just as he leans up to look for it, without him even asking. He gets into the rhythm of his work easily, perhaps even more productive than when alone. A few hours have passed when Wiress stands up, the scrape of her chair disturbing the quiet.

“This was peaceful.” He sees the thanks in her large eyes. “May I come again? Tomorrow?” Beetee nods, he hasn’t spoken a word to her yet and for some reason, cannot begin now. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, smiling softly as she leaves.

She comes back the next day, and the next. Beetee finds his words around her, and starts to relearn social niceties, asking her what she’d like in her coffee, or telling her about his latest project. She doesn’t come every single day, but it’s often enough that she migrates a lot of her supplies to his workshop, so they work on different things side by side. _She_ rarely talks.

When Beetee starts to ask her questions, he can see her reluctance, but she answers them honestly anyway. He’s quite flattered that she trusts him with that.  He learns bits and pieces about her childhood, her inventions, her favorite foods, mostly light things just for some conversation as they work.

It takes a string of particularly rough nights full of nightmares before Beetee broaches the one subject he promised himself he wouldn’t. “Do you dream about your Games?” he asks, quietly, keeping his gaze forward rather than looking at her by his side.

Her answer is small, practically forced out of her. “Yes.”

He releases his breath. As long as he isn’t the only one, as long as he isn’t _alone_ , he’ll be okay. “I just keep seeing the faces, over and over again. Those kids being electrocuted.”

“I only dream of one. The first person I killed watched me the whole time.” Beetee stares, surprised that she is voluntarily talking about it. “We sort of ran into each other, looking for shelter, and I was quicker with my knife than she was. It took forever for me to hit something vital enough to kill her, and she just kept _staring_.”

Beetee tries to remember that, and finds that he cannot. The boy he was mentoring must have still been alive at that point, keeping Beetee’s attention. He almost misses Wiress’ next words, lost in trying to remember the boy’s name.

“The other kills seemed easy, compared to her.”

Alan. The boy’s name had been Alan.

She leaves more abruptly than usual, that day, and Beetee plans to apologize for bringing it up. He shrugs it off when she doesn’t show up the next day, but becomes upset when several days go by and she still doesn’t knock on his door. He didn’t realize how much he would miss these visits, how much he would miss _her_ , miss talking to her and working with her and just hearing her soft breathing in the same room. He berates himself for bringing up the Games and making her discuss them. He can’t sleep, worrying that he’s lost his only real relationship with another human being.

On the fourth day, he raps on her front door nervously, afraid that she will turn him away without letting him speak. The door is opened by a pale middle aged woman, and for a moment Beetee is convinced that he’d chosen the wrong door, that perhaps Wiress was in the next house over and this woman was a squatter in the Victor’s village. The resemblance is too strong for him to entertain the wild thoughts for long, however. Between the wide blue eyes and the wild crown of dark curls, this woman is clearly Wiress’ mother.

“Um, is Wiress here?” his voice isn’t steady. The slightly delirious part of his brain recognizes that _without_ the Games, he might be experiencing a similar scene, picking up a girl for a date. Wiress’ mother doesn’t seem surprised to see him, or to have any hesitation in opening the door for him to enter.

“You’re prompt. She just got back.” Her eyes are sad, mouth a tight line, and Beetee recognizes the nervous movement of her hands as something Wiress does as well. She nods upstairs, and Beetee moves before her words properly register. Had she been expecting him? Where had she been that she got back?

The upstairs hallway is a row of open doors, and he walks to the one that would correspond with his room in his house. Sure enough, Wiress is sitting on the bed, facing the door but staring at nothing.

“Wiress?” Beetee’s voice is tentative. He doesn’t know what is wrong; he just knows he wants to fix it. He steps closer, gently covering her hand on the sheet with his own. She flinches away, and he feels his heart unexpectedly twinge at the rejection. At least the motion seemed to wake her up, awareness slowly filtering back into her eyes.

“Beetee?” She tilts her head, examining him as if he might have changed immensely in the few days they haven’t seen each other.

“I missed you,” he says quietly, hoping it is all purpose enough.

She nods. “I was…called away.” His heart twinges again, resting back in his chest with a hollow thud. He had thought she kept away voluntarily. This explains why she was studying him. She probably _feels_ changed. It also explains the flinch, and he feels bad when he remembers that the first thing he did was touch her. He waits patiently to see if she wants to talk about it. It seems as though she’s only needed prompting, someone who understood so she could release the flood of emotions bottled up inside her. She speaks in sentence fragments, not full thoughts, but he is able to piece together what she’s experienced, how much she hated it, how she doesn’t even feel sane anymore. While she pours out her words, she turns to him and touches his shoulder for emphasis, then as she tires herself out and loses strength, her hand braces herself against his chest, and eventually she slides her head down to his shoulder, by now hiccupping and crying more than talking. Beetee cautiously puts his arms around her, no sudden movements.

“Is this okay?”

She nods, face buried in his chest, beginning to calm down. “You…I feel safe.” He strokes her back and holds her, lulling them both back onto the bed and into sleep.

They don’t nap long, but they both needed the rest. Beetee feels pleased that by the time he leaves the room, Wiress is able to manage a smile and a farewell.

When he stumbles down the stairs, Wiress’ mother is there, watching him. He’s sure that he blushes scarlet. “I fell asleep, I’m sorry.” She doesn’t move or acknowledge him in any way, and it makes him feel guilty. “Just sleep, I mean, we’re just friends…we’re not…” he drifts off awkwardly, absolutely mortified.  Wiress’ mother shuts her eyes.

“They made her kill in that arena.” She pauses. “And she only just returned from being systematically raped.” She sounds exhausted, too tired to even be angry anymore. “The _last_ thing I would try to protect her from is someone genuinely loving her.”

“Oh.” The sound bubbles out of Beetee’s throat. “I mean…” The woman doesn’t seem to be listening anymore, so he doesn’t try to finish denying something he isn’t even sure isn’t true.

“I can’t talk to her anymore.” She’s speaking out loud but Beetee doesn’t think she expects him to answer. “I don’t know what to say, and _she_ doesn’t talk…I hope you can help her.”

“She helps me. I owe it to her to try.” She nods, but doesn’t move, so Beetee shows himself out.


	41. Storms

The storm didn't wake Beetee, he could sleep through any kind of weather. It was the small body climbing into bed with him that did it, especially her bare feet, cold against his legs.

"You okay?" he murmured, still half-asleep, pulling her close to him automatically. There was another crash outside, causing Wiress to whimper and bury her face in his shoulder.

"I'm not..." _usually frightened of thunderstorms._ He could decode the multitude of meanings in what she couldn't manage to say. _I'm not usually so childish, loud noises wouldn't normally bother me but right now they remind me of my arena._ "I keep thinking that the sound..." _is actually another bomb going off, a charge I set that will kill other children, frightened children just like me._

"I know, Wiress. I know." He held her tight as she shivered, gone cold with fear. "It's okay." He rested his head on hers, nestling his face in her curly hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I hate..." _how powerless I feel. H_ _ow afraid I am of everything now. That I can't even speak to you properly._ He heard everything she wished she could say.

He sang a soft lullaby to her, the steady pounding of the rain providing a soothing back beat. She hummed along for a little bit, but her breathing slowed, and she soon fell asleep cradled in her partner's arms.

* * *

The storm didn't wake Beetee, he could sleep through any kind of weather. It was the small body climbing into bed with him that did it, especially her bare feet, cold against his legs.

"Shhh, don't wake your mother," he murmured, still half-asleep, pulling her close to him automatically. Coil nodded, tucking her head under his chin.

"I'm already awake," Wiress hummed, wrapping her arms around his arms around Coil. There was another crash outside, causing Wiress to jump in surprise and Coil to whimper in fear. "It's alright, darling, we're..."

"Right here," he finished, pressing a kiss to the top of Coil's head.

He sang a soft lullaby to her, the steady pounding of the rain providing a soothing back beat. Wiress joined in, their voices joined in calming their daughter until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep cradled between her parents.


	42. Laughter

Beetee doesn't make it five feet into the room before Wiress starts laughing. She falls back onto the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest. "Your _beard_!" she shrieks, in between peals of laughter.

Beetee tries to hold back his own grin, crosses his arms and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "I know, I know. It seems like ridiculous facial hair is still the trend here." Wiress has tears in her eyes, she's laughing so hard, and the sight of her being able to enjoy herself cheers Beetee up immensely. She'd been so solemn since the Reaping, so resigned to her very likely death. He feels a surge of warmth in his heart for this woman, the woman whose company was the only thing keeping him at all sane all these years.

"Don't laugh too much, love. I saw your outfit for the interview." She sobers up immediately. "That bad?" He nods emphatically. They stay silent and serious for a full three seconds before they both burst into even worse laughter than before. He falls to the bed next to her, holding her in her mirth. Wiress trails her fingers over his face, tracing that silly goatee.

"It's so...pointy." She presses her lips together to moderate her smile.

"My stylist told me it made me look distinguished." The face she makes is priceless, and Beetee can't help but kiss her.


	43. A Mentor's Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of my ships are united by age difference, and a common theme of AU fanfics is to turn it into a student/professor situation, which is just kind of yum :) I actually have a few thematically similar things pouring out of my fingers lately, so I hope you enjoy!

She bangs open his office door violently, looking fierce and angry and, he thinks, devastatingly beautiful. The impact of the door swinging open shakes the nameplate off, a little gold plaque that reads “Professor Latier” falling to the floor as she enters. Wiress is breathing heavily, and he tries to not look at the lovely way her chest moves or even the way her perfect hands are clenched into fists.

“You…” She’s too angry to speak properly, even though she’d gotten over her usual shyness and difficulties with speech with him ages ago.

Beetee stands, pulling her properly inside the office and closing the door behind her. “Yes?” he asks calmly, as though he doesn’t know exactly why she’s there.

She still sputters, allowing him to lead her to her usual chair by his desk, sitting obediently. Her fists are still clenched, turning white in her rage. “You’re throwing me away!” she manages finally.

Beetee raises his eyebrows questioningly, choosing to sit next to her, within reach, instead of behind his desk. He tells himself that he isn’t playing dumb, he isn’t pretending anything, but he wants to put off the moment as long as he can, the moment when he has to tell her and she won’t look at him the same way ever again, she will only look in disgust.

“I-I thought we worked well together, that I was a good teacher, that my work….” her voice fades away, something that only happens when she’s under great stress, something she’s managed to mostly conquer ever since she began to TA his classes. His heart twinges and he speaks automatically before he remembers that he had planned to be silent.

“Your work is beyond reproach.”

Her eyebrows go up, her large eyes even more confused than before. “Then, _why_?”

She lifts a hand, he had only seen her fists, her slim fingers curled up, but now he realizes she’s clutching a piece of paper that he can only imagine is her schedule for next semester. He takes it from her, trying not to touch her perfect, perfect skin as he does so. He smoothes out the paper to read what exactly has happened. He’s slightly surprised. “Dr. Brooks? Good. They took my recommendation.”

“So you did do this?” The hurt on Wiress’ face is almost overwhelming. Beetee swallows, steeling himself. “Professor?”

“Yes, I suggested the switch. It’s a big step up for you, you know. He’s the head of the department.”

“I know that, I just…” She blinks away a tear, but not quickly enough. He’s seen it and it breaks his heart. He takes her hand, trying to ignore the frisson of pleasure it gives him to be touching her.

“You’re the most promising doctoral candidate in the whole program. You’re a brilliant engineer. You should be working under the best.”

“You’re the best,” she says stubbornly.

The compliment warms his cheeks, and he’s grateful that his dark skin doesn’t show his blush easily. “At electrical engineering, perhaps. We both know that you need to study in your own field.”  

Wiress’ eyes are still hurt, still wary. “I thought we had discussed a switch next year, after I had been published.”

“I should have discussed it with you first, I know that.” Beetee sighs, his thumb stroking small circles on the back of her hand. When he realizes it, he drops it and pulls back as if he’s been burnt. Wiress pulls her feet onto the chair, shoes forgotten on the carpet, and wraps her arms around her knees. It’s probably automatic, she has sat exactly like that, in that chair, for countless hours since she enrolled in graduate study. Beetee stands, crossing to the other side of the small room, fiddling with things on his bookcase just to give his fingers something to do. “I’m thirty nine, you know.” Wiress shrugs, not sure where he is going with this line of thought. “You’re, what, twenty five?”

“Twenty six.” She’s still baffled.

“I…” he clears his throat. It’s embarrassing and awful but she deserves to hear it from him and he has to just say it and be done with it. “I find myself too distracted around you. By you. Um, not that it’s at all your fault by any means, no it’s mine, my fault that I can’t focus…” He pinches his nose just above his glasses. Good lord, he can’t even focus _now_. Not when she’s tilted her head so adorably, intent on what he’s saying. “You deserve the best education possible, and since I am an idiot who can’t seem to control himself…” he gestures awkwardly, _so there it is_ , he says with his hands, and laughs mirthlessly. “Brooks. Brooks will be a good fit for your work.”

She blinks rapidly, trying to understand what he’s saying. She’s intelligent, an engineering genius, he truly believes that, but understanding other humans is so very different from understanding machines. “Focus?” She frowns, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. He can tell the exact moment she figures it out, her eyes widen and she looks up at him as though a light bulb went off over her head, just like in cartoons. He can’t help silly thoughts like that when he feels as though the world is crumbling around him.

“Oh!” She meets his eyes, her gaze free of hurt for the first time since she burst through that door. He wishes it were possible to leave it like that, instead of replacing the hurt with anger and disgust and annoyance once she realizes how very not pure his thoughts have been. “Attraction?” she asks.

He nods. “Yes. It’s very inappropriate, I apologize, I’m meant to be your mentor, I’m meant to be above this sort of thing, but it seems I’m rather weak.” He breaks the eye contact, his emotions too raw to look at her while he admits his failure. “It also appears that I am a coward, I should have approached you first, explained that I was requesting a switch. I shouldn’t have taken away  your agency, I was just...afraid.”  He forces himself to look at her again. “Afraid and ashamed. This is a very difficult conversation for me.”

“So you’re attracted...so you _like_ me?” She sounds incredulous and Beetee forces himself to just nod once, quickly, instead of speaking, afraid of the words that might tumble out if he only opens his mouth. More than like, _adore_. I adore you and want you and I think I might just crazily love you as well.

There’s a smile teasing the corners of her mouth, one Beetee doesn’t understand but he’s still afraid, afraid of hurting her when the very reason he created the distance between them was so that he couldn’t hurt her in any way. “Beetee.” He bites the inside of his cheek by mistake, caught by surprise at hearing her use his first name. He’s pretty sure it’s the first time. He’s pretty sure it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “You could have just told me that.” She unfolds her legs and stands, hands fidgeting nervously.

“It would have been inappropriate,” he rasps nervously. “It would have put you in a bad position, to say no to me when I have power over you.”

“I wouldn’t have said no.” Her voice is small and soft.

“Even a yes would have been a no, these circumstances wouldn’t allow for true consent-,” he cuts himself off when the full implication of her words hits him. “Not a no?”

She shrugs shyly. “I like you.” She steps closer. His office is small, she could cross to him in four more steps. She’s so near and Beetee can’t stand it, can’t stand how much he wants to touch her. He doesn’t move.

“I’ve wanted more for a while.” Three steps. “Been very attracted….” Two. “Interested.” One. One step away, hell, he could lean over and kiss her from here. He doesn’t. He can’t.

“It isn’t this easy, Wiress.” She smiles at the sound of her name. He wonders if her name on his lips affects her the way his name on her lips affects him.

“Why not?”

His arm twitches, wanting to reach out to her. “You’re still a grad student-”

“But not your grad student,” she interrupts. “Now I’m Brooks’. Believe me, I know the policy. I looked it up after the second or third sex dream about you.” She scrunches her face adorably, indicating only a little embarrassment at her admission. Beetee awkwardly adjusts his stance, her words got him a little hard and _god_ his inability to control his body and his hormones is why he made the request in the first place. He gulps and tries to calm himself as she continues to speak.  “We would have to declare a relationship to the department head and you wouldn’t be allowed to vote on my dissertation, but a relationship isn’t forbidden.”

“Not forbidden doesn’t mean ‘not frowned upon’.”

Wiress nods. “True. Something I’m still willing to risk.” Beetee’s heart twinges, her work is everything to her, her work is the most important thing in the world, but she’s willing to take even a small chance for him. He would do the same for her, the same and more. He’d do whatever it took. He just hadn’t imagined that it could only take this little. If he had known, he might have done it ages ago.

They’re still one step apart.

“There’s still…” he clears his throat nervously again. At the rate he’s doing this, his throat will be torn up by evening. “I’m still not quite sure you can consent yet. I’ve been your professor, your advisor, your mentor…”

Wiress shrugs again, voice light. “So we take it slow. Make sure of our feelings. I’m not going anywhere.”

Beetee wants to cry, he wants to shout in joy, he wants to know for sure this is real and not a dream, that somehow and for some reason, the woman he wants doesn’t mind that he’s thirteen years older, doesn’t think he is a pervert abusing his power, she’s willing to do what it takes to start something real with him, something based on their time together but not because of it. He wants to say everything he feels, every terrifying detail but he pushes that down and only says one thing, “May I kiss you?”

She nods enthusiastically, and he crosses that final step to her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her, pressing his lips to hers, tasting her sweet breath, cementing that the chemistry between them is simply too much to ignore.

They pull their faces apart only to stay close, for the first time Beetee feels comfortable gazing his fill at her lovely face. Porcelain skin, dark bangs brushing her eyebrows, large blue eyes. It doesn’t feel like he should be allowed to touch someone so perfect, but it does feel right. Wiress kisses him again, only stopping when their touch grows too heated. They touch foreheads, Wiress’ heavy breathing reminding him that his feelings aren’t one sided, she’s just as affected by him, just as attracted. “Going slow will be difficult for me,” Wiress whispers. “But worth it. You’re so worth it.” Beetee leaves her embrace reluctantly, but it’s important to him to keep any control over himself possible. Slow. They’re going to go slow. “We should maybe go get dinner together,” she suggests. “In public.” He returns her grin and opens his office door, holding it for her.

They manage to keep their hands off each other for the duration of the meal, at least.


	44. The Stars

As a child, Beetee had found a book of stars. It was old and well worn, the cover not quite attached anymore, but he treated it gently and spent hours pouring over the paintings and photographs within.

“Why can’t I see them? The book says I can, if it’s dark enough.”

His mother pulled him to sit with her and look at the book together. “This book’s from before the wars. It wasn’t written with District 3 in mind, sweetheart. We have a lot more smoke and smog now, pollution that they didn’t have.” She tapped one of his favorite pictures, a happy couple lying in the grass, pointing up at the constellations.

Young Beetee was still fascinated, staying up late under his covers to memorize the stars, to trace over the constellations with his finger, to imagine what it would be like to go up to the moon, as the book assured him had been done.

That was all before he was reaped, before his Games happened and all of his dreams died. After _that_ , it was years before he found anything that made him happy.

“We’re going stargazing.” He gripped Wiress’ hand snugly in his own, and she went with him without protestation. She knew, after this long together, to just go along with Beetee’s ridiculous plans. She always found them to be fun, in the end. He led her down the stairs, and when she turned to go towards the back door, he shook his head. “This way.” He pulled her into the living room, where the couch had been pushed against the wall and the floor was now covered with a blanket. “Lie down,” he instructed, handing her one of the couch cushions for a pillow. She smiled at his enthusiasm and obeyed. He turned out the lights and sat next to her, fiddling with something to his side that she couldn’t see, but she quickly recognized the hum of a projector. “There…” He lay down, staring up at the swirling sky now projected on the ceiling. “The stars.” She might have been humoring him a bit at first, but Wiress was now fascinated, staring up at the pinpricks of light.

“They’re beautiful…” He snuck a glance at her, drinking in the sight of her eyes wide open in wonder.

“They really are.” He began to tell her the stories of the constellations, pointing up at them and unconsciously mimicking the illustration from the book he had once loved. Between their bodies, Wiress’ small cool hand found a place to rest in his own.


End file.
